Unfamiliar Roads
by Clio
Summary: Harry spends a quiet summer. But then Snape appears at Mrs. Figg’s doorstep and things get complicated. The Boy-Who-Lived and the Death-Eater-Turned-Spy will have to work together if they want to return to Hogwarts alive this year. Not Slash.
1. Mrs. Figg

_**A/N**: This is my third story. It is not connected in any way to '**Fortuna's Bitter Smile**', but '**East of Eden**' can be viewed as kind of an background story. So maybe you would want to read it first._

_'Unfamiliar Roads' is not nearly as dark as the other fics. It actually is a little silly in some parts, and from time to time the characters are a little ooc. I was very happy to find out that I can write other than serious and gloomy *dares anyone to oppose that*. But bear with me and don't fear, some serious issues will surface in later chapters._   


**Summary:**   
_Harry Potter was looking forward to spend some carefree weeks with the Weasleys. Severus Snape thought he would just run another quick errand for the Headmaster before the start of the term. But suddenly they find themselves on the run, and far away from Hogwarts the Boy-Who-Lived and the Death-Eater-Turned-Spy discover that behind the façades they are both only human. Guest Appearances by Mrs. Figg, the Dursleys, everyone's favorite dog-animagus (later) and many more._   
_NO SLASH!_

_Oh, and did I mention the story is set in the summer between Harry's 5th and 6th year?_   


**Disclaimer:**   
_Mrs. Rowling owns the world of Harry Potter. I don't. I only borrowed some of her characters to play around with them._   
  


Thanks to Kristin, who did a great job beta-ing this. 

**Unfamiliar Roads**   
by Clio   


**Chapter 1 - Mrs. Figg**

The centaur turned around to take a last look at Harry who was sitting on his back. Then he fell into a brisk gallop. Harry enjoyed the steady rhythm of the drumming hooves and the wind in his hair. He clung to the waist of the creature as it gathered speed and flew over the flower-covered slope of the hill. Just a bit faster and they'd take off!   
Suddenly the rhythm of the hooves became unsteady. The horse's body underneath him bucked. Harry held on to the mane in front of him. "Stop that, Ronan!" he shouted. The bucking of the centaur increased and Ronan turned his face towards his rider. 

"Harry!" Ronan's arms grabbed him firmly. 

"What are you doing, Ronan!" Harry shouted. 

"Harry, Harry." Ronan's voice grew shrill. His well-proportioned face changed into the contorted face of Dudley Dursley. "Harry," he shouted and shook his cousin and the whole bed with him. Harry mumbled something incoherent. "Mum, Harry is still sleeping," whined Dudley. 

With a sigh Harry threw back his thin cover and pushed away Dudley's arms. "Not true!" 

Dudley grinned at him evilly. From the bottom of the stairs Harry could hear Aunt Petunia screech, "Get up, boy. We don't have all day." 

"You gotta move to old crazy Mrs. Figg's today!" Dudley reminded him with a glee. 

"Sod off, piggy! " 

With a last evil grin over his shoulder Dudley trampled down the stairs.   
  


Harry exhaled deeply as soon as he was alone in his sparsely decorated room. As if Dudley had to remind him of Mrs. Figg! Once again the Dursleys were dropping him off at the old woman's house like an unwanted cat or dog. In the evening the Dursleys were going to host a party for some people from Vernon's company, 'Grunnings - Thrilling drills'. They wanted Harry to be out of the way, and like many times before Mrs. Figg had come to their mind. 

Harry smiled to himself. Staying at the elderly lady's house was not as bad as Dudley surely thought it would be. For over a year, he knew, or at least strongly suspected old Mrs. Figg to be a witch. Dumbledore had mentioned her as a part of the old crowd Sirius was to alert after the events surrounding the Triwizard Tournamant. 

Two days after tonight's party the Dursleys would go to Ibiza for vacation. Harry, of course, was not invited. He had to stay at Mrs. Figg's. To make things easier for the Dursleys he was supposed to go over to her house today and stay there until school started again. Aunt Petunia had made a big point about having him out of the way while cleaning up after the party and packing for the trip. 

Vernon and Petunia had been very relieved to hear Mrs. Figg agree to take Harry for the whole of their vacation. Uncle Vernon, overjoyed, had even offered her some money to cover for Harry's food, but the old lady had declined. Aunt Petunia had been very pleased about that. 

What the Dursleys did not know was that Harry had written to Ron Weasley, whose family had gladly agreed to pick him up at Mrs. Figg's house after the Dursleys had left. Harry congratulated himself on the arrangement. Not only would he get rid of his poor excuse for a family, but also he would be able to spend the rest of his holiday at the Burrow. 

"Harry, have you fallen asleep again?" boomed his uncle's voice through the house. 

"No, I'm coming!" Hastily Harry changed into his clothes and quickly made his bed. He did not want to anger Aunt Petunia on his last day at their house. He glanced over at his trunk, neatly packed with his school supplies the night before. Hedwig, perched in her cage on top of his school trunk, hooted at him. Yes, Harry was ready to leave for four pleasant weeks with the Weasley family. Smiling, he ran down the stairs.   


* * *

  


The day went by quickly. After breakfast he helped Aunt Petunia to decorate the living room with ugly pink garlands that didn't match the brown tapestry at all. He was glad to escape from this evil color scheme when Uncle Vernon assigned him to weed the rose bushes in the driveway. The Dursleys wanted everything to be perfect for their big party.   
After some hours of pulling out weeds, in which Harry more than once wished he could use his wand, he was ordered back inside. At about 5 p.m., after some last admonitions from Aunt Petunia, he finally was told to get his things because he was to be dropped off at Mrs. Figg's   
  


Uncle Vernon walked him across the street. "And you will behave yourself, boy! I warn you; one word from Mrs. Figg about unusual things happening to her cats or anything else, and I swear, I will punish you like I never have before." They arrived on Mrs. Figg's doorstep. Vernon rang the bell. "No magic, or else..." 

"What else?" Harry asked innocently, fully aware that Uncle Vernon would not dare to hurt him. He was too afraid of all those mysterious and mighty wizards Harry mentioned once in a while- for tactical reasons. 

Before Uncle Vernon could answer, the door opened wide and Mrs. Figg smiled at them. "Oh, Harry, there you are. How nice of Mr. Dursley to help you carry your luggage over." She shook both their hands. 

Vernon blushed. Of course, Harry had dragged his trunk over all alone. Vernon Dursley would never touch let alone carry anything that could even remotely be viewed as a magical artifact. And a trunk that could hold three times more contents than its own volume was surely to be regarded as something magical. 

Uncle Vernon cleared his throat. "Ahem. You will _not_ contact me, Mrs. Figg, if he causes some minor trouble, won't you? This is where you can reach us, should there be an emergency. A real emergency, mind you!" Uncle Vernon, stressing the word 'real' as much as he could, shoved a note with a phone number towards the old woman. Folded into the note was a 20 Pound bill. 

Mrs. Figg looked at the money with bewilderment. Then she smiled at Mr. Dursley, obviously choosing to ignore his implications. "He won't trouble me. Harry is such a sweet boy. Are you not, Harry?" Harry nodded vehemently, not able to conceal a smug grin. Vernon shot him a dirty look, turned on his heel, and left.   


"Why don't you come inside, Harry?" Mrs. Figg invited him. She still looked liked he remembered her. A short, fragile looking old woman with obviously no dress sense at all. She wore a cream-colored blouse and grayish skirt, which was a strong contrast to her blue woolen stockings. Her feet were stuck in well-worn Muggle trainers. 

As soon as Harry entered the house, the smell of cats and old cabbage hit him like a wave. All of a sudden Harry was not so sure anymore if Mrs. Figg was really a witch. Well, after all he had only to spend 3 days with her before the Weasleys would fetch him. 

"Why don't you bring your stuff into the guestroom upstairs? It's the 2nd door on the right." Harry nodded and started to haul is heavy trunk up the stairs. "Wait a minute, Harry." The old lady came over to the bottom of the stairs where Harry stood. He was sure that she would put a levitation charm on his trunk or something alike, and he was soundly disappointed when she only handed him the 20 Pound note Vernon had given her. "I believe your birthday was some days ago. You might have some use for the money." 

Harry stared at the note and waited for a moment before he picked up his trunk again, just in case Mrs. Figg was about to levitate it after all. No such thing happened. The old lady wandered into the direction of the kitchen, happily humming a tune. With a sigh Harry started again up the stairs.   
  


Once up in the guest room he sat down on the bed. Maybe Mrs. Figg wasn't a witch, but she had thought of his birthday. The Dursleys had chosen to ignore that day, but at least he had had some fireworks. Harry recalled how he had been sitting at the open window on the night of July 31st, gazing at the stars. On his birthdays and Christmas he missed his parents most, but he always found the distant cold twinkle of the stars somewhat comforting. They gave him the feeling that he was not completely alone in the world.   
Around midnight there had been an eruption of green, yellow, and red lights some streets further down. Probably someone had been throwing a party and they were having fireworks in Magnolia Crescent. Harry would have loved to have his own birthday fireworks, or a small marching band performing in the driveway just for him. Or even a sorry clown with an accordion, like Dudley had at his party. 

Now, sitting in Mrs Figg's guestroom, he had to smile at his thoughts on his birthday night. He certainly had to be grateful if he ever got so much as a cake from the Dursleys. He looked around the room. It was painted a faint apricot with matching hangings and linens. Every flat surface available was crowded with dry-flower bouquets or small cat figurines. The choice of colors made Harry shudder, but it was still better than Aunt Petunia's pink garlands. Grinning, he made his way down to the living room again.   
  


* * *

Mrs. Figg was nowhere to be seen. Only a cat eyed Harry intently from the windowsill. Harry gazed back, but was soon defeated in his little staring contest. 

"I'm just about to fix us some tea, Harry," came Mrs. Figg's voice from the kitchen. And soon she emerged with a large tea tray floating in front of her. Harry jumped to his feet. So she was a witch. His heart throbbed in relief. Mrs. Figg smiled at him warmly while two cups and a plate with chocolate cookies arranged themselves on the table. 

After tea she handed him an envelope. "That's for you, Harry, from Hogwarts", she added unnecessarily, for Harry had already seen the Hogwarts crest on the back. Curiosity piqued, he ripped it open.   


_Dear Mr. Potter,_   
_I'm sorry to tell you, that over the last week a situation has arisen, in which it is impossible for you to stay at the Weasleys house or even Mrs. Figg's house for an extended period of time. For your own safety it was decided to allow you to stay at Hogwarts for the rest of the summer holidays. With your relatives abroad it is the place where you will be safest. You will be escorted to Hogwarts. Please stay with Mrs. Figg until you are fetched for the trip._

_Sincerely,_   
_Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster_

_PS: Don't be disappointed, Harry. It was arranged for Ron Weasley to come to Hogwarts early, too._   
  


Harry swallowed hard.   
No Burrow, no cheerful Fred and George, no giggling Ginny, no perfect Percy and no motherly Molly Weasley. Of course he was disappointed. The Weasleys were the closest thing to a family that he had. Forcing back the lump in his throat, he looked at Mrs. Figg, who was watching him with sympathy across the table. 

"I'm sorry, Harry. But look at the bright side of it. You and Ron get to explore the castle very thoroughly with no teachers around to tell you off. Maybe you can even get an admission slip from Professor Dumbledore to see the Restricted Section of the library." Mrs. Figg winked at Harry. "I have heard they have colorful illustrated sexual education books there. Isn't that what all you young lads want, eh?" 

Despite his disappointment Harry had to smile at Mrs. Figg's attempts to cheer him up. "So you know what the letter says?" 

"Of course! Albus contacted me to tell me about that change of plans. For some reason they couldn't reach you at the Dursley's." She shrugged her shoulders. "The Headmaster also told me that most likely Sirius Black will also be staying at Hogwarts." 

At this Harry's face lit up. " Really? That would be so cool." 

Old Mrs. Figg smiled. "You like your godfather a lot, don't you?" Harry nodded. "He is a nice enough man. What a shame they sent him to Azkaban. I reckon he endured that without harm, didn't he?" 

" I think so." 

"Remarkable, truly remarkable."   


The conversation ceased for a while. Harry tried one of the chocolate cookies only to find out that they tasted stale.   
Bravely, he ate a second one. His experiences with Hagrid's cookies had taught him that it would make the cook happy if you at least pretended to like their products. 

"Er, when will I be picked up, and by whom?" he asked finally. 

Mrs. Figg was absentmindedly stroking one of her cats that was permanently brushing against her legs. "Oh, I think tomorrow in the morning. Maybe later. And to answer you second question, I don't know whom Albus will send. But there is a high possibility that it will be Sirius or Hagrid." 

Harry smiled brightly at the news. In a very festive spirit he even ate a third cookie, totally forgetting to ask what events had made it necessary for him to go to Hogwarts right away.   


* * *

After tea, Mrs. Figg made him look at her photo albums. This in itself was a boring occupation, but even doubly so when the photos were showing only cats. In lack of a family, Mrs. Figg had taken pictures of every cat she had ever owned. And given the fact that Mrs. Figg was a witch, and had a prolonged lifespan, she had already owned a lot of cats. Harry got bored quickly, but amused himself with the thought of a coming reunion with his godfather. 

It got dark while Mrs. Figg was telling him stories about her 'most remarkable pets.' Harry could hear heavy rain pounding the roof of the cottage. Just as she was giving the good character traits of Monica, the gray Devon Rex, the doorbell rang. 

_Sirius, finally!_

"I'll get it!" Harry jumped up. 

"No, you wait here. I have some powerful wards at my door. Although I'm just an old lady they come in handy from time to time to shoo away my admirers. " Chuckling over her joke, Mrs. Figg stood up and slowly went to the hallway to open the door. 

Harry couldn't see her opening it, but he heard her talking. The first words where drowned by the squeal of the wooden door. "Yes, Albus told me he would send someone. I didn't expect you before tomorrow." 

A male voice answered, "The situation is more urgent than we first anticipated." 

"Don't just stand there in the rain, do come in. You're just in time for dinner," Mrs. Figg's voice came again. 

Harry edged around the doorframe to get a glimpse of the visitor. In the doorway, drenched to the skin, stood Severus Snape.   


Harry felt like someone had slapped him. "Professor Snape?" he stammered. 

Snape turned towards him. "Ah, Potter." He nodded briefly at Harry. "So he is here already. In that case we should waste no time and leave as soon as possible. Thank you, Arabella, for watching him." 

"Oh no, Severus! Do you think I will allow you and the boy to leave in that weather? Look at you; you don't have a single dry fiber in your body anymore. Come in and warm up a bit. I would propose you and Harry don't leave before tomorrow morning." 

Snape brushed her objections away briskly. "I must insist that we go now. Potter, get your things! We are leaving." 

Harry looked at Mrs. Figg for help. This surely was only a nightmare. He would wake up any minute now. The old lady drew a deep breath and took a step towards Snape, thereby invading his personal space deeper than Harry thought was possible without getting cursed. "And I must insist on you staying at least for dinner." Mrs. Figg, now on tiptoes, stared daggers into Snape's eyes, who had crossed his arms over his chest. Harry noticed that even his rigid posture couldn't prevent his whole body from shaking with cold. "You stay, Severus," Mrs. Figg commanded again. 

To Harry's great surprise, Snape inclined his head. "But only to warm up a little. After that we have to leave." 

Mrs. Figg nodded. "We will see. Now come in." 

When Snape stepped from the dim hallway into the living room Harry couldn't help but notice the bad shape his professor was in. He was unshaved, which accentuated the deep hollows in his face and made his features look even more angular than usual. His dirty robes were ripped in a few places and the usually shining boots were caked with mud. Snape looked unspeakably tired. 

Mrs. Figg, obviously as shocked by his appearance as Harry, narrowed her eyes at him. " You have not just Apparated from Hogwarts like that, have you?" 

"No, but I would prefer to go back there as soon as possible." 

Unperturbed by the icy tone in his voice, she continued. "Thought so. Now, Severus, I propose that you take a shower and put a drying spell onto your clothes while I fix dinner. The bathroom is over there." 

To Harry's astonishment, Snape obeyed without any further comment. Mrs. Figg nodded grimly at his retreating form and walked into the kitchen. 

Harry stood alone in the living room, still unable to process what he had just heard and seen. Why had Dumbledore sent Snape of all people? He knew that they deeply detested each other. After what he had learned about Snape's role in his parents' death, Harry didn't loathe the Potions Master anymore, as he did in his first 3 years, but he still didn't like him. The relationship between he and his teacher had become a lot more complicated than simple loathing. 

During his 5th Harry had learned that Snape had been present at Godric's Hollow that fateful night, and that the plan he, Lily, and Dumbledore had made to trap the dark Lord had lethally backfired. In the course of the events not only Lily had died, but also Snape and James Potter had engaged in a duel, that had resulted in the death of Harry's father. If it had been an accident, a desperate measure of self-defense or purpose on Snape's part, Harry could not fathom (_A/N: see '**East of Eden**' for the background story_). At Dumbledore's request he had tried to talk with Snape about the death of James Potter, but the attempt had ended in Snape yelling at him to leave him alone and smashing some glassware to emphasize his point. All through remainder of Harry's fifth year, the tension in Potions had almost been unbearable. Snape had taken points from Harry whenever possible. Harry knew that Snape had assumed his spying duty in Voldemort's circle, and despite their mutual dislike, he sometimes felt something akin to respect for him. But still he couldn't bear to be near Snape.   
  


"Harry?" Mrs. Figg's voice pulled him out of his reverie. "Could you give me a hand at cutting these carrots?" Harry went into the kitchen, where Mrs. Figg handed him a bundle of carrots and a knife. "You have to clean them first. I prefer to prepare the meals the Muggle way. It simply tastes better, and the leftovers are much more becoming for my little darlings." She patted a cat sitting near the sink between the ears. 

Harry set to work. "Why did they have to send him of all people?" 

Mrs. Figg shrugged. "Albus must have his reasons. You don't like Snape, eh?" Harry preferred not to answer that. "He is not the most likeable fellow, I know, but he is one of the most truthful allies we have these days. If Albus sends him, he must be very concerned for your safety." 

"My safety?" 

"There have been quite a number of raids during the last days. You-Know-Who is up to something, if you ask me." Mrs. Figg nodded grimly at the gravy she was stirring. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   


_A/N: Since English is not my native language I have a hard time judging if I really hit the tone I intended to. So any constructive criticism is welcome._   
  
  



	2. Fireworks and Curses

**Summary:**   
_Harry Potter was looking forward to spend some carefree weeks with the Weasleys. Severus Snape thought he would just run another quick errand for the Headmaster before the start of the term. But suddenly they find themselves on the run, and far away from Hogwarts the Boy-Who-Lived and the Death-Eater-Turned-Spy discover that behind the façades they are both only human. Guest Appearances by Mrs. Figg, the Dursleys, everyone's favorite dog-animagus (later) and many more._   
_NO SLASH!_   


**Disclaimer**   
_Mrs. Rowling owns the world of Harry Potter. I don't. I only borrowed some of her characters to play around with them._   
  
  


Thanks to Kristin, who did a great job beta-ing this.   


**Unfamiliar Roads**   
By Clio 

**Chapter 2 - Fireworks and Curses**

When they were almost finished preparing the meal, Snape emerged from the bathroom and came over to the kitchen looking a little less anxious. He had discarded the heavy cloak and Harry noted that his robes were clean and dry now, although still ripped in a few places. 

"Ah, Severus. How nice that you come to help us set the table." Mrs. Figg pushed some plates and a dish with mashed potatoes into his direction. With a scowl Snape scooped up the plates and left the heavier piece for Harry to carry into the living room. How typical of him, Harry thought, as he followed him to the table. He noted that although now warm and dry, Snape still moved rather stiffly. 

They began their meal in silence, but Mrs. Figg decided to make some conversation. "So tell me, Severus, where have you been, if you didn't come here directly from Hogwarts?" 

"I happened to be in the neighborhood when the Headmaster asked me to fetch Potter." Snape answered, his voice muffled trough a mouthful of carrots. 

Harry hid his amusement when Mrs. Figg shot Snape a clear look of disgust at such lack of table manners, but looked up in alarm when she asked, "then I suppose you have been participating in that little skirmish three days ago." This time Snape confined himself to a nod. 

"Er, there was a fight ? A Death Eater attack?" Harry asked. 

"Oh yes, just down a couple of streets from here," Mrs. Figg answered casually. " They tried to get past the safety perimeter. But don't worry, you are safe here." 

Harry did worry. "What, that was an attack? Um, I think I saw some flashes from the curses then, but I thought, well, that they were fireworks." He blushed a little, embarrassed that a wizard like him could mistake curses for fireworks. Snape merely grunted and rolled his eyes, not caring to interrupt himself from wolfing down his second helping of pork roast. For a split second Harry wondered why Snape was behaving as if starving. 

"No, Harry, that was an attack. They were trying to invade that little safety zone Albus has set up around the Dursley's house," said Mrs. Figg. "They couldn't reach Privet Drive, though. There was a fight that held them until the Aurors rushed in. It was all over the Daily Prophet for two days. Even some Muggles noticed and had to be Oblivated by the Ministry." 

"I don't read the Daily Prophet during the holidays." 

Snape, who finally had emptied his dish, said, "Certainly not, Potter. Why would you care what happens in the wizarding world, when it is not you who is making the headlines?" 

"Severus, you seem to forget that the boy is living with the Dursleys. They would never allow him to subscribe to a magical newspaper," Mrs. Figg smiled sympathetically at Harry.   
"Anyway, Harry, they could arrest most of the Death Eaters, but the Prophet was remarkably vague on who or what held the attackers in the first place. It seems that the mysterious person had vanished from the site as soon as the Aurors came in. Maybe some people would know more than me, the silly old woman that I am." She looked pointedly at Snape. 

Annoyed he put it down his glass of water. "Alright silly old woman, I will tell you before you pester me about it all evening. I was with among a group of Death Eaters whi were assigned to kidnap Potter on his birthday. The Aurors were alerted when the alarm-spells on the perimeter were set off. Yet Macnair was able to take down the whole safety ward faster then we all had expected. So I had to make sure that the whole campaign was not over before those incompetent Ministry wizards could arrive. I created a little havoc, transfiguring some bushes into Auror look-alikes, and shooting random spells at my fellow Death Eaters. Unfortunately, they were not distracted by these bushes long enough before they tackled me. I was able to take down two of them, but I decided it was better to leave the scene as soon as the Aurors arrived." 

"Thought so. No wonder they were not fooled by your transfigured bushes, if your abilities in that field have not much improved since I last saw a display of it." Mrs. Figg winked at Harry. 

"As I can see from your interruption you are not longer interested in my account of that incident." Snape helped himself awkwardly to a piece of lemon cake that was sitting at the edge of the table. 

While Harry was still letting the information sink in, Mrs. Figg regarded Snape deep in thought. "I have heard it was a rather short but violent fight there in Magnolia Crescent. It surprises me that you escaped it unharmed. " 

"Well, I did." 

"That little trick of yours blew your cover as a spy among the Death Eaters, didn't it?" 

Snape grimaced. "Unfortunately those bumbling Aurors where not able to get hold of all attackers. Three got away, and they surely told the Dark Lord that their little raid failed, because of a traitor in their midst." 

"So I guess you were hiding since." Mrs. Figg resumed her interrogation. 

"Yes, the Headmaster and I decided that it would be best if I kept an eye on the neighborhood, now that the safety wards were down." 

Mrs. Figg took a deep breath. "So you are telling me that you were hiding out there between the hedges, and maybe even in my own backyard for four days?" Snape, just about to finish his cake, didn't answer. "And it never occurred to you that you might have come by my place for a bed or a shower? And what did you eat? Not enough, so much I can tell from your display here at my table. You didn't nick milk-bottles and apples from the neighbors and those pastries from my cats like a vagrant, did you?"   
Harry laughed at the thought of Snape stealing cat food, but Mrs. Figg silenced him an angry glare. 

"I'm perfectly able to conjure all things needed. It was not necessary to draw unwanted attention to you." Snape said finally. At this Mrs Figg bristled in disapproval. 

"Not necessary? Who do you think you are? You might be Albus spy, but certainly you are not 007, Severus. You will not save the world single-handedly. And certainly not tonight." Harry sniggered. The remark was lost on Snape. If he had ever heard about James Bond, he was not showing it. 

Mrs. Figg sighed. And then she said slowly, as if explaining to a very small child "It will be best if you stayed here overnight. It is early enough for you and Harry to go to Hogwarts in the morning." 

Snape leaned back stiffly in the high backed chair. "No, we will go as soon as possible." 

Mrs. Figg didn't argue. She looked pensively at Snape's ripped cloak which lay neatly folded over the back of the couch. "I'm not sure if I already asked, but did you get hurt during that attack?" 

"Thanks for your repeated inquiries, but I can assure you I'm fine," Snape said coolly. 

Mrs. Figg narrowed her eyes and watched him closely. "Well, Severus, " she said all of a sudden, "could you please get up and fetch us that cookie jar at the shelf over there?" 

Harry looked up in surprise. _What did she want with those old cookies when there was lemon cake on the table?_ Snape pulled out his wand and pointed it at the glass jar on the top shelf, clearly planning to summon it. 

"No, Severus. That I could have done myself. It's just a very fragile Muggle–made jar, and I don't want to break it with magic. You are so much taller then I am, could you not reach up and get it down for me?" 

Harry was confused. He was pretty sure that the jar in the shelf was no other than the one Mrs. Figg had retrieved the cookies for their tea from. Snape shot her an annoyed look, slammed his wand onto the table and got up.   
He reached up with his left hand and pulled at the cookie jar which was sitting on a board well above the height of his head. Obviously surprised by its weight he instinctively reached up with his other hand as to steady the jar. The next moment it crashed to the ground, and with a yell of pain Snape clutched his right shoulder. 

Mrs. Figg coolly regarded Snape, who was now standing in a mess of cookies and shards, panting heavily. "So you are fine, eh? Then what's wrong with your arm?" Snape didn't grace her with an answer. His lips were drawn into a firm line. "Did you think you could hide than from me? I have watched you rest that arm of yours all evening. Why can't you simply admit that you did get injured during that little stunt you pulled with your former Death Eater colleagues?" 

Snape finally muttered something which sounded suspiciously like 'dirty trick' to Harry. 

Mrs. Figg smiled brightly. "Harry, could you go up to the room next to the guestroom and retrieve for me a earthen jar labeled 'Meditonicum'? And you," she pointed at Snape, "sit down over there and strip." 

"Pardon?" 

The old lady chuckled. "You heard me. Don't worry, I'm not going to seduce you. I merely want to have a look at your shoulder." 

* * *

  


When Harry came down the stairs again he found Mrs. Figg already bowed over Snape, busily murmuring incantations. The Potions Master, who straddled an old chair, had obeyed her earlier command and bared his upper body. He glared at Harry, daring him to comment. When Harry handed the jar to Mrs. Figg he could see that Snape's right shoulder was swollen and bruised purple. Actually, his torso was adorned with several minor cuts and bruises, but Mrs. Figg was concentrating on his shoulder. "Did someone hit you with a curse here?" 

"No, not directly." Snape indicated a bruise below his ribcage, "That's where the actual curse hit, but it sent me crashing into a bloody garden wall 10 feet away. Quite a spectacular sight it must have been." 

As if the his last remark had finally drained all energy, he closed his eyes and relaxed visibly under Mrs. Figg's hands, who was now applying a salve to his abused shoulder. Harry stole a glance at his teacher. Without his ever-billowing robes, he looked a lot less impressive and frightening. His chest and shoulders were not as broad as Harry would have imagined them to be, he was built rather lean. On a leather strap around his neck he wore a strange brass pendent. It was shaped like wheel with twelve spokes and small runes were engraved into it. Harry also noticed an ugly scar winding its way downwards from the base of Snape's throat until it disappeared in the black hair of his chest. Harry found himself looking for the Dark Mark on Snape's arm, but all he could see was pale skin where it was supposed to be. Certainly Snape had put a concealment charm over it.   


Mrs. Figg had already finished rubbing the ointment in and had also bandaged Snape's shoulder firmly. With a whisk of her wand, his robes covered his body again, and a second movement made a loose sling appear around his neck. Carefully she coerced his arm into it. 

"What is that supposed to be about?" He demanded harshly. 

"You will have to rest your arm for some days." 

"Are you crazy, Arabella? I don't have time for this." 

Unabashed by his rude words, Mrs. Figg continued. "You were lucky neither your arm nor your clavicle is broken. I have mended those ruptured ligaments and strained tendons, and the salve should take care of the bruises, but it had to be treated earlier. You know, that in a Muggle hospital they would put your whole arm in plaster. How could you, who prides himself on being one of the most knowledgeable Potions Masters in England, believe an injury of that severity could stay unattended?" 

"It was not the highest priority. I was going to let Poppy have a look at it once returned to Hogwarts," Snape answered through clenched teeth. 

"Priority? Speaking of Hogwarts..." 

Snape lifted his good arm in defeat. "Stop nagging, woman. We will go tomorrow. But I would like to contact Albus tonight." 

Mrs. Figg nodded happily at her final victory. "Do what you must. Use the fireplace in the other room to talk to Albus. The Floo powder is on the shelf to the right." Snape stood up stiffly. "I think you can sleep in the guestroom upstairs. Harry will have to sleep on the couch down here then. I hope you don't mind if his luggage stays in the guestroom." Snape mumbled something sounding like 'no', already on his way to the fireplace. 

Mrs. Figg smiled at Harry. "Stubborn man, your teacher. Don't worry, the couch is as comfortable as the guest-bed upstairs." 

Harry eyed the sagging piece of furniture skeptically, but as long as he didn't have to share a room with Snape, he was fine with everything. After giving the sleeping arrangement a second thought he went upstairs to retrieve Hedwig from the room Snape was to stay in. Better safe than sorry.   


* * *

"So what did Albus say?" Mrs. Figg asked when Snape came back from the fireplace. 

"He wasn't available. I left a message with Minerva. I will try to reach him tomorrow morning. If you will excuse me now, I'm rather tired. " 

Snape started to climb the stairs to the guestroom, but Mrs Figg called him back once more. "Severus, wait! Take these." She pushed a plate with cookies and a glass of milk into his direction. They were the same cookies that had been strewn all over the living room when earlier when Mrs Figg had tricked him into pulling down the jar. Snape obviously recognized them. 

"I'm not hungry." 

"Then take it as gesture of my hospitality." 

Snape looked at the glass and the plate as if they contained a deadly poison. 

"Please, try to relax a little, Severus. This house is well protected. No need to sleep with your wand ready as I'm sure you usually do. " 

"No wand under the pillow tonight," Snape nodded, and gestured at his injured arm," but, since I'm a little incapacitated, you will excuse me ..."   
He pulled his wand and used it to levitated the plate and the glass in front of him. 

Slowly he directed them up the stairs in front of him. Halfway up he stopped and turned to face Mrs. Figg again. His face held an expression that Harry had never thought him capable of. A genuine and grateful smile. 

"Thank you." 

"You are welcome, Severus." 

* * *

  


About an hour later after Harry had helped Mrs Figg doing the dishes and feeding the cats, he decided that he would go to bed as well. The old lady helped him to arrange some blankets on the couch. Then she transfigured a cat treat 'Extra Beefy' into a toothbrush for him, because the one he brought was still in his trunk in the room Snape was already sleeping in. Harry did not want to risk his life waking Snape while retrieving the brush. When he sniffed at the new brush which smelled strangely of dried meat, he wondered for a brief moment if he had not better taken the risk of rousing Snape.   


When Harry returned from the bathroom he heard Mrs. Figg talking in the next room. Curiously he sneaked closer to the door which was slightly ajar. The old witch was standing in front of her fireplace, in which the head of Albus Dumbledore was floating amidst a whirl of green flames. Slowly he retreated, but he stayed close to the door, around the corner so that he could listen. 

"Then could you please go and fetch him?" 

"Sorry, Albus, I'm not going to disturb him anymore. If you had seen how weary he was, you wouldn't request me to wake him up." 

"Arabella, this might be important. Severus has tried to reach me earlier." 

"He is already sleeping. He was very exhausted. Whatever you have to talk about with him will have to wait until tomorrow or you will have to tell me." 

Dumbledore sighed." Alright then. Are you familiar with the events in Magnolia Crescent four days ago?" 

"Yes." 

"Then you know that we don't have any longer a man in Voldemort's circle, and thus no insider information on his next moves. I want you to be extra careful in the coming days. Maybe you can check on the Dursleys' house once in a while." 

Harry didn't hear Mrs. Figg's answer properly, but he noticed that Dumbledore's voice was tired when he spoke next.   
"Yes, that was Severus responsibility during the last days. You know, I'm actually glad that I don't have to send him to Voldemort any longer. He was taking a high risk." 

"If you are so worried about him, couldn't you have sent someone else to watch Privet Drive?" 

"Why would I? Severus insisted on staying in Little Whinging." 

"The boy is injured, did you know that?" 

"Harry? How?" Dumbledore sounded alarmed. 

"No, Harry is fine. I'm talking about Severus. " 

"Well, he did not tell me about it when he contacted me after the attack. Whatever his injuries were, they couldn't be too serious. Don't look at me with such reproach, Arabella. Severus is a grown man, and a very powerful wizard. He can look after himself, and he is able to handle his tasks without you trying mother him. " 

"Is that so? I'm not sure about that. Hell, Albus, he was more than once on the verge of collapsing onto my carpet tonight." 

The Headmaster sighed. "Indeed? I assume you took good care of him." 

"Yes, I did. But I tell you, that Potions Master of yours is proud like a Spaniard and as stubborn as an ox." 

Harry could hear Dumbledore chuckle. "Yes, he is. Now, Arabella, listen. We have reason to believe that there will be an attack on Hogsmeade during the next days. As much as I would like to have Severus here at the castle to support our forces, I need him to keep an eye on the boy." 

Harry held in his breath. Voldemort was already powerful enough to attack Hogsmeade? 

"Tell Severus he should take Harry to the flat in London and stay there with him until I contact him again." 

"What flat?" 

"There is one that is sometimes used by members of the Order when they have to pose as Muggles for a while. Severus knows it and has the keys to it. " 

"So you think you can answer for letting James's son and Severus stay under the same roof for more than 24 hours?" 

The Headmaster chuckled again. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, my dear Arabella." 

"How true. Now, I don't want to interrupt your business any longer. Good Night, Albus." 

"Good Night, Arabella." 

Harry quickly scurried over to the couch and jumped between the blankets. Only a second later Mrs. Figg came into the room. She smiled at him as if she knew he head been eavesdropping on her conversation with Dumbledore, but she didn't say anything but "Goodnight, Harry," before she switched off the lights.   


********~~~~~********   


_**A/N**: Yes, there will be a plot. But ... the next chapters will come out a little slow, because I'm a slow and lazy writer g> and I have a full time job as a scientist. At the moment I am Teaching Assistant in college-level Molecular Biology lab-course. I constantly have to refrain myself from yelling 'Can't you pay attention? 5 points from Gryffindor'. Scary, I tell you._

_Next chapter: We'll meet Mrs. Figg again and we'll witness a robbery._

_Special thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter, you guys make me go on:_

_**Nemesis, The Slayer, LunarBard, Zebee, Katani-chan, bluemeanies, iejasu, sev's-gurl** and **AngeDog**._   
_I was especially flattered by your praise, **FrogHopper**. Thank you. It's nice to be remembered._


	3. To London

**_Summary:_**   
_Harry Potter was looking forward to spend some carefree weeks with the Weasleys. Severus Snape thought he would just run another quick errand for the Headmaster before the start of the term. But suddenly they find themselves on the run, and far away from Hogwarts the Boy-Who-Lived and the Death-Eater-Turned-Spy discover that behind the façades they are both only human. Guest appearances by Mrs. Figg, the Dursleys, everyone's favorite dog-animagus (later) and many more._   
_NO SLASH!_   


**_Disclaimer_**   
_Mrs. Rowling created and owns the world of Harry Potter. I don't._   
_I only borrow some of her characters to play around with them._   
_The VW Jetta belongs to the Volkswagen AG._   
  


**Beta read by Kristin**   
  
  


**Unfamiliar Roads**   
**By Clio**

**Chapter 3 - To London**

When Mrs. Figg woke Harry the next morning it was still suspiciously dark in the living room. He thought that it couldn't be later than 6:30 in the morning. "Ah, the little sunshine is awake! Get up, Harry, it's going to be a wonderful day!" Mrs. Figg chirped and moved along to yank open the curtains. 

The gray light of dawn filtered into the room. It took a moment for Harry's sleepy brain to realize he was lying on the couch in Mrs. Figg's living room, covered with a threadbare blanket full of cat hair. Disgusted, he pushed it back, and sat up. How hadn't he noticed all the hair yesterday? At the foot of the bed sat a big white cat, whose name he had learned yesterday was Tiddles, which stared at him and the blanket pointedly. Had the cat shared the bed without his notice? Harry considered throwing a pillow at the cat when he suddenly remembered the reason he wasn't sleeping in the guestroom, which was his usual refuge when staying with Mrs. Figg. 

_Professor Snape slept there._

Mrs. Figg swept past him humming " Jingle Bells", not bothered by the fact that it was August. 

Harry grimaced. Speaking of riding in a sleigh, was he really expected to go to London with Snape or had that only been a bad dream? His worst fears were confirmed when Mrs. Figg came back into the room with an armful of Muggle clothes. "As you might already know you will not go straight back to Hogwarts, Harry." She winked at him. He flushed, realizing she knew that he had overheard her conversation with Professor Dumbledore the previous night. "After you have showered and dressed I want you to go upstairs and wake my other guest. Tell him to wear these." She hung the clothes over the back of the couch with a snigger. 

"What? There's no way I'm going up there." 

"Oh, Harry, please. I have to feed the cats. Do an old lady a favor." Although she turned away from Harry, he caught a glimpse of the broad grin spreading across her face.   


After being finished with a very extended shower, Harry thoroughly brushed his teeth and combed his hair as time-consuming as possible until he realized he could no longer procrastinate. Reluctantly, he picked up the clothes from the couch, and made his way, slowly, up the stairs. He decided he would knock on the door, drop the clothes, and run down the stairs as quick as possible.   


When he reached the guestroom he noticed that the door was slightly open. Curiosity won over, and he silently pushed it open all the way, an odd sight falling upon his eyes. Severus Snape, the much dreaded, gloomy Potions master of Hogwarts, was sleeping peacefully between the cheery apricot sheets in the room decorated with cat figurines and brightly painted walls. Harry grinned.   
Then he noted that untrue to his word Snape was sleeping with a firm grip around his wand, ready to hex any unsuspecting intruder. This, and the fact that he awkwardly cradled his injured arm against his chest, somewhat disturbed the serene picture. Carefully, not wanting to risk the wrath of Snape, Harry backed out of the room. Following his original plan, he dropped at the clothes outside the door, yelling, "Good morning, Professor, Mrs. Figg says you are to wear these." He quickly rapped his knuckles upon the wood before hurrying back to the safety of the first floor, and Mrs. Figg.   


He found her in the backyard, where she not only was feeding her own four cats but also a large number of strays. She smiled upon seeing Harry frown at the animals. "I see you don't like cats. Didn't they teach you at Hogwarts that cats are very sensitive to dark magic? A cat is a wizard's best friend, or so the saying goes."   
He frowned again. That may be true, but he doubted it was necessary for Mrs. Figg to have a whole battalion of furry, dark magic sensors around.   


After feeding the cats, Harry helped her to set up the kitchen table for breakfast. He had just taken the first sip from his tea when Snape entered the room. In spite of the habitual scowl his newly shaven face looked a lot more relaxed than it had the night before. Harry noted that although he had so vehemently protested against it yesterday, his arm was still draped in the sling. Mrs. Figg, who had also noted that, nodded in approvement. "You look a lot better this morning. I'm glad those clothes fit you." 

Snape glanced darkly down at his attire. He was wearing a pair of old-fashioned brown corduroy pants and a dark green woolen sweater over a gray shirt. The sweater was already threadbare at the elbows. "Please enlighten me, where did these clothes come from?" 

"Oh, there was this fellow who cut back the hedges and such around here," she said while inviting Snape to the table with a vague hand gesture. "He left a set of clothes here he used to wear at work. Well, one day, he just didn't come back." 

Snape sat down with a sneer. "I'm wearing the work outfit of a long dead Muggle gardener?" 

The elder lady shrugged. "Better than your torn robes. And a lot less suspicious when moving amongst Muggles." 

Snape raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Muggles? You seem to forget I am going back to Hogwarts today, Arabella." 

"I'm afraid you will not." About half an hour later Mrs. Figg had filled him in on her conversation with Dumbledore the previous night. He protested a few times, but in general, he didn't seem to be overly surprised about the changed goal of his mission. Harry chewed on his toast without much enthusiasm. He would be stuck with Snape for at least a day.   
  


It turned out that Mrs. Figg not only was able to lend Muggle clothes to Snape, but also able to supply them with transportation. She had an old Volkswagen Jetta in the garage next to the house. Since Harry was not able to Apparate yet, and brooms, as well as the Knight Bus, were too noticeable, a car would be least conspicuous to go to London with. Besides, Snape didn't have much faith in Muggle public transportation. 

"Do you think you can drive this?" Mrs. Figg asked Snape when she showed them the rusty car. 

"It's a Muggle device, Arabella. It's not like those machines are complicated." 

While Mrs. Figg seemed to accept this as a yes, Harry strongly suspected that Snape had never in his life driven a car – but he decided to keep those thoughts to himself.   


After they had fitted the school trunk and Hedwig's cage into the backseat, and boarded the car, Harry was forced to revise his opinion. Although he seemed to be very uncomfortable in the driver's seat, it clearly was not the first time Snape sat in a car. 

Harry thought he saw him wince a bit as he redrew his right arm from the sling to grip the steering-wheel. It seemed to be a good thing he could use his uninjured left arm to shift the gears. After a few minutes of fumbling with various buttons and some lethal glares at the levers, Snape managed to start the car and back out of the driveway. 

Mrs. Figg positively beamed at them. She motioned for Harry to open the window, handing him a large paper bag. "Have a nice trip, you two." 

"Thank you!" Harry smiled back.   


Snape only nodded curtly. In the next second the engine died with his efforts to put it in gear. With a glower at Harry, who had dissolved into a fit of giggles in his seat, he started the car again and forced the gear with a horrible grinding noise that only made Harry giggle harder. This time, he managed to leave Mrs. Figg's driveway without further incident. Soon they also left Little Whinging behind. 

* * *

  


After 30 minutes on the highway, Harry had already found that the car reeked of cat pee, had no radio, and that the bag Mrs. Figg had handed him contained the infamous chocolate cookies. He decided to break the uncomfortable silence in the car. "So, where exactly are we going, sir?" 

Snape ground out "London" without any further explanation. Discouraged by the answer, Harry returned to fidgeting with the cookie bag. Although he knew the cookies were tasteless, he ate one later out of sheer boredom. 

"Want one?" he mumbled with cookie crumbs falling from his mouth. Snape looked at the offered cookie bag and suddenly pulled the car over to the shoulder of the road where he stopped. 

"Alright, Potter. Let me set some things straight here. First, this is not a joyride, nor is it a social call. So stop trying to make any small talk. I'm not interested in your mindless chit-chat. Second, I did not ask to be your bodyguard, although you might think that your VIP status calls for one. My time is too precious to waste on babysitting. Third, I hope the situation in Hogsmeade will be cleared shortly, because I intend to return to Hogwarts as soon as possible. Without students it is a very peaceful place. Fourth, keep those bloody cookies to yourself. I already had a rather painful encounter with them yesterday. Understood?" Harry nodded mutely, too intimidated to say anything. 

"Good." With some difficulties Snape put the car into gear and continued their trip. 

After a few minutes Harry began to wonder about Snape's last remark. Had he been as serious about the cookies as he had been, without doubt, about the other things? He scratched his head and looked at his Potions teacher. 

"What?" Snape barked, noticing Harry's look. 

"Um, I was just wondering how you know to drive a car." 

"Unlike you might assume with your limited imagination I don't spend all of my time teaching Potions to little dunderheads like yourself ." 

Harry strongly doubted that Snape really had a life outside the dungeon, but he remembered what Snape had said earlier about mindless chit-chat and he refrained himself from an answer.   
  
  


Surprisingly Snape addressed him about an hour later. "Potter, as far as I can tell from this reading, we need to refill the tank." 

Harry didn't know what Snape was trying to tell him, until he realized that maybe he didn't know what to do. "You have to keep driving until we get to a roadside gas station." Snape nodded, obviously satisfied with the answer.   


At the station he told Harry to fill the tank while he would watch his every move. Together, they went inside the shop, and since Snape apparently wasn't willing to pay, Harry handed over the £20 note that Mrs. Figg had given him the day before. He watched unhappily as his only Muggle money disappeared. For a moment he thought about buying some candy, but the money was just enough to cover the fuel. Snape remained watchful of Harry the entire time.   
  


The old car was using up gas fast, and some time later they again had to stop for more. This time Snape got out and filled the tank. After doing so he came to the window on Harry's side of the car. "Potter?" 

"Um, I don't have any more money, sir. Don't you?" 

"Muggle money? Of course not." 

After an awkward pause in which Snape looked repeatedly from the car to the cashier and back, he handed Harry the keys, "Listen, Potter. Get the engine running, I will be back here in a minute." He felt for the wand in his sleeve. 

"Er, Professor, you know that there are cameras around here somewhere, right?" 

"Cameras?" 

"Yeah, recording devices to prevent, well, fuel theft, I suppose." Harry gave Snape an apologetic half-smile. 

His teacher had already spotted the camera that was pointed in the direction of their gas pump. He glared at it as if he could will it to shut down. Harry supposed that if that was possible, of all people, Snape probably could, without effort. 

The salesman behind the cashier looked in their direction through the shop window. "Whatever you plan to do, I would propose to do it soon before we rise even more suspicion." 

Snape shot him an angry glare and turned to go into the shop. Harry started the car engine and scooted over to the passenger side when he saw two yellow flashes inside of the mini-mart. He glanced around, noticing that they were still the only customers of the station. The next moment Snape entered the car, tossed something towards Harry, and drove out of the station. Once safe back on the road Harry asked unbelievingly. "We did not just rob a gas station, did we?" 

Snape sneered at him. "Why didn't you bring more money, Potter?" 

Harry forced himself not to argue with Snape and inspected the two little packs in his lap instead. They turned out to be an bar of chocolate and a pack of cigarettes. "Dinner" was Snape's only comment, and after a while "the chocolate is for you."   
  


Finally, they arrived in London. It was already dark when they reached the little flat in the quiet suburbs. Snape seemed to be familiar with the surroundings, and went upstairs without any further words, leaving Harry to struggle with his trunk and Hedwig's cage. When Harry at last came into the flat, Snape was at the window smoking a cigarette. 

"You will be sleeping here," he said, indicating a couch. 

Harry dropped his luggage and explored the flat. It consisted of a living room with a pantry, a bathroom, and a small bedroom. All rooms were furnished in a Muggle style, and supplied with enough things to make the place appear occupied. There were towels in the bathroom, clothes in the wardrobes, and books on the shelves. To Harry's disappointment he discovered that the little fridge in the pantry was empty. 

"Still hungry?" 

Snape had come up behind him. He looked down at Harry with a sour expression, massaging his injured shoulder. Harry noted that he again carried his arm in the sling. 

"I saw a First Aid cabinet in the bathroom. Maybe it contains some Muggle painkillers." 

"I does. I put them there." Snape's expression softened a bit. "I have been here before, you know." 

"Oh, right," Harry said, feeling stupid. He felt even more so when Snape, who had walked over to the bathroom, turned and said, "You can consider me touched by your concern. Good night, Potter." 

"I was only trying to help, you git," he whispered.   
  


Harry arranged himself in the most comfortable position he could attain on the couch. He dearly hoped that they'd be at Hogwarts the next morning, as he steeled himself for the second night on a couch in 24 hours. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   


_**A/N**: The next chapter will take not so long to be posted. Promise. There will be considerably more action and suspense in it. And what's Darth Vader got to do with it all?_   
  


_I'd like to thank everyone who was reviewing the last chapter. You guys are great._   
_**Sev's-gurl** and **kaypee**: Glad you understand my urge to take points from my students, but they were actually very well behaved lately._   
_**Kalla**: Half of your compliment should go to my excellent beta-reader Kristin who smoothes out my English a lot. Glad you liked East of Eden. Sometimes I'm a bit unhappy with my earlier stories._   
_**ProfSnapeFan**: My two main characters asked me to kindly tell you that they don't find it the least bit entertaining to be on the run together._   
_**Ossobucco**: I was especially happy about such a nice review from a fellow non-native English speaker. I try my best to keep this story in a different tone than my others. It's actually fun to see the world with Harry's eyes and to write from his perspective._   
_**Demeter**: Well, Mrs. Figg kind of grabbed my story and ran with it. I never intended to give her so much room in the fic, but once writing about her I couldn't stop. She is a very interesting old lady, I like her a lot. And she is not the least bit impressed by Snape's attitude._   
_**klev**: Creating my own stories helps me to shorten the time to Book 5. : )_

_Also thanks to **Nemesis, Not a Muggle, arcee, Bubby, sova, kbear** and **The Slayer** for their encouragement._   
  



	4. Rollercoaster

_**Summary**: Harry Potter was looking forward on spending some weeks with the Weasleys. Severus Snape thought he would just run another quick errand for the Headmaster. But suddenly they find themselves on the run, and far away from Hogwarts the Boy-Who-Lived and the Death-Eater-Turned-Spy discover that behind the facades they are both only human. Guest Appearances by Mrs. Figg, the Dursleys and everyone's favorite dog-animagus._   
_NO SLASH!_   


**_Disclaimer_**   
_Mrs. Rowling owns the world of Harry Potter. I don't._   
_I only borrow some of her characters to play around with them._   
_'Star Wars' belongs to George Lucas._   
  


**Beta read by MartianHouseCat**   


**Unfamiliar Roads**   
**By Clio**

**Chapter 4 – Rollercoaster**

The next day was even more boring and uncomfortable than the drive from Little Whinging to London if that was possible. They were waiting for an owl from Dumbledore with instructions. For meals Snape had sent Harry to a bakery around the corner with some money he had found in the flat. The rest of the time Harry occupied himself with some old Muggle journals, which he had unearthed from a drawer. Unfortunately the books on the shelves had turned out to be fake displays. 

Snape on the other hand spent most of the time either pacing the living room or staring out of the window smoking. He wore a very sour expression. If he was worked up about being in a flat with his most loathed student or if he his shoulder was still bothering him, Harry could not fathom. He had noticed in the morning that Snape had almost emptied the bottle of Muggle painkillers and that his arm was still bound in the sling. 

Harry had always thought that as long as Snape wasn't yelling at him he could bear to be in the same room with his teacher, but the awkward silence was grating on his nerves. He couldn't really concentrate on what he was reading. Through the closed window he watched the weather change from overcast to bright sunshine over the course of the day. 

The tension in the room rose considerably during the afternoon and Harry felt more and more like a caged animal by the minute. Obviously Snape was feeling the same. The intervals between his cigarettes became shorter and shorter until the pack was empty. 

It must have been around 5 p.m. when he drove the fist of his good arm into the wall with frustration. Harry jumped at the surprisingly loud thud and looked at Snape in alarm, waiting for the inevitable fit of rage his teacher was infamous for. But Snape only regarded him coolly and said: "Put on your shoes, Potter. We are going out." Harry didn't move. "Have you gone deaf, boy?" 

Harry shook his head. "Where are we going? Why?" 

"I'm sick of waiting in this dreadful Muggle flat. I will go for a walk." Snape pointed his spidery finger at Harry. "And you are going to accompany me, so I can keep an eye on you." 

"But I'd rather..." 

"No." 

"And if Prof. Dumbledore's owl arrives in the meantime?" 

"Then it will have to wait until we return."   
  


Ten minutes later they were out on the street, walking through Muggle London in the last sunshine of what had been a wonderful summer day. But it was an unpleasant stroll. Harry walked a few paces behind Snape, kicking at the dirt occasionally. To Harry's delight every now and then a small pebble or a screw cap of a long empty bottle would hit the back of Snape's legs, but he didn't seem to notice. 

Harry didn't know how long they were walking. His watch had been ruined when Dudley had 'accidentally' thrown it into the toilet bowl on his first day back at the Dursley's. He guessed that it had been quite a while since they left the flat; the sun was already setting and his feet had started to ache. Fortunately he didn't have to wear Dudley's old shoes, which due to his heavy weight were always ruined after a few months, but his own were far from comfortable. Aunt Petunia always bought the cheapest shoes she could find in Little Whinging, not bothered if they truly fit Harry or not. 

They had come into a busier district than the one the flat was in. People were sitting in front of restaurants and on park benches, enjoying the beautiful evening. Harry took everything in curiously. The Dursleys had never taken him to a restaurant. 

They passed a cinema. He also had never been to the movies. Actually he had never been anywhere but to the zoo at Dudley's 11th birthday. He took some time to study the movie ads. When he looked up he saw that Snape was waiting for him at the next corner. "Don't linger, Potter," he spat, before he continued walking at a pace so fast Harry had to run to catch up with him. 

They passed a bar bathed in cold blue light and a ice-cream parlor, which reminded Harry of Fortescue's in Diagon Alley where he had spent quite some time in the summer before his 3rd year. Everywhere Muggles were laughing and enjoying the beautiful evening. Harry envied them. They were blissfully unaware of how it was like to march through London with an ill-natured wizard. He sighed. 

Next to the ice-cream parlor was another movie-theater. It was smaller and shabbier than the other. Through the tarnished glass Harry could see the ads. They were having an 80's revival week. Tonight "Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back" was on. Although Harry had never seen the movie he was fairly familiar with the plot through Dudley's comments on it.   


"What is it now, Potter?" came Snape's voice from behind him. "Quite fascinated with movies, are we? One should think that you would have enough time when you are with your relatives to idly spend your time and money in cinemas." 

"No." Harry shook his head sadly. 

"Pardon?" 

"Err, I have never been to a the movies, Sir. But I think it must be wonderful." Harry blushed. 

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Don't lie to me, Potter. I'm familiar enough with the Muggle world to know that this is a common form of entertainment for Muggles your age." 

"I'm not allowed to leave the house alone. And the Dursleys lock me up in the cupboard when they go out. They don't want anyone to discover that I'm, well, different." Harry watched Snape's eyebrow climb further towards the hairline. "Um, they say I would spoil all their fun." 

"You don't expect me to believe your outlandish stories, do you?" Snape snarled. 

"Then don't," shouted Harry, anger suddenly flashing through him. Some Muggles turned to watch. "What do you know about me or my relatives? Why do you think they will not take me to Ibiza with them so I'm stuck here with you? They hate me! They even hate to be reminded of me!" 

"Quite understandable," Snape murmured, but the look he gave Harry held not the usual malice. 

Harry took a deep breath. He was so angry that he was ready to duel with Snape there and then on the Muggle street. Snape's eyes bored into his. Then his teacher's gaze swept to the movie posters, to the Muggles watching them, and back to Harry. "It's true, isn't it?" He said flatly. 

"What?" 

"That you are confined to the Dursley's house all summer." 

Harry fidgeted under Snape's calculating gaze. "Well, it's not entirely true. I have to go with Aunt Petunia to the supermarket once in a while. And five years ago they took me to the zoo." His gaze returned to the movie ads, and as an afterthought he added proudly, "But I have seen lots of movies on TV. Well, until they rearranged Dudley's room, that is." 

He trailed off. Snape didn't need to know that he had watched all those movies through the keyhole shivering in the cold of the dark hallway. After Dudley had complained that he couldn't see his TV set from his bed, it had been moved to a different corner in the room. That had been the end of Harry's nightly TV sessions, no longer able to see the screen from his usual spot. 

Snape continued to look at him strangely for a long time. Then he ran his hand through his greasy hair. "It's been a while since I subjected myself to that torture the Muggles call entertainment. But since we are stuck in this Muggle disguise, that," he said, gesturing at the cinema, "might be a place as good as any other be in. Come, Potter." 

Snape walked towards the entrance without a second look at Harry. Had he turned around he would have been rewarded with the sight of Harry gaping at him open–mouthed like a trout. 

* * *

Two hours later when they stepped into the street again, the world looked totally different to Harry Potter, the Muggle-raised wizard, who'd grown to 16 before setting foot in a cinema. His cheeks were still flushed with excitement and all worries about Voldemort and his increasing powers could not be further away. 

Oftentimes, when he had been locked away in his cupboard as a small child, he had imagined fantastic worlds, where brave heroes acted out dangerous battles. It had always worked as a distraction from the poor treatment his family gave him and may have helped to keep him sane. And the world of fantasy still could distract Harry. "That was so cool!" He exclaimed enthusiastically, still wrapped up in the movie. "Did you see those space ships? And those light sabers?" Harry made swooshing sounds while brandishing an imaginary weapon. 

"They were hard to miss," was Snape's only comment before he nodded towards a tube station down the street. "That way, Potter." 

It didn't occur to Harry that Snape might not share his excitement. "And wow, wasn't it amazing when that Vader guy said 'Luke, I'm your father'?" Harry did his best to imitate the wheezing baritone voice while they were walking down the stairs to the platform. 

Snape only cocked an eyebrow at him. "Poor plot device." 

"What? Why?" 

"Potter, think for once in your lifetime. How likely is it that no one had told that man about his ancestry?" 

"Maybe, well, maybe they... they didn't want to burden him with that, " Harry said with a smug grin, congratulating himself for his prompt answer. 

Snape snorted. "Know thy enemy!"   


Shrugging Harry turned away from Snape. He didn't want to let him spoil his good mood. On a bench lay a forgotten evening newspaper. Harry rolled it up and playfully attacked the waste bin. "Ha, take that, storm trooper!" 

After some more yelling and hard hits at a concrete column he paused and looked around, panting. They were still alone on the platform. Snape was standing with his back to him, intently studying the map of the underground system on the other wall. Obviously he had chosen to ignore Harry's outburst. 

Later Harry could not explain what had gotten into him in the next moment, if it was an impulse build up by many frustrating potion classes, or if it was just his high spirits and playfulness. Be what it may, his wantonness got the better of him and he slapped Snape across the back with the newspaper. "Oy, Lord Vader, defend yourself!" 

Snape whirled around. Instantly his hand flew to the wand hidden in his sleeve. Harry got only a short glimpse of Snape's angry face before the he turned a little, shielding his now drawn wand from Harry's view. After a hasty scanning of the platform for Muggles he started whispering an incantation. 

_He is going to hex me!_ Paralyzed, Harry stared at the back of Snape's head, his arm still in mid-air, ready for a second slap with the newspaper. Although Harry thought it an eternity, only a blink of an eye later Snape fully turned to him again. The wand in his hand emitted a beam of red light, an almost perfect imitation of a light saber. 

Harry blinked. Following his gaze Snape looked at the light, too. "Caeruleus!" He barked and moved the hand of his injured arm awkwardly through the wand-light. At once the light's color changed from red to green. "Much more fitting for the Head of Slytherin, don't you think?" Snape bared his teeth in an humorless smile and met Harry's surprised gaze. 

A spli-second later he attacked in a classical fencing riposte. With his wand he batted the rolled up newspaper out of Harry's frozen hand. Amazed Harry stared at Snape's wand. "How? How did you do that?" 

The thunderous noise of a subway train quickly approaching the platform interrupted Harry. Footfalls came from the direction of the stairs. "Nox!" The light from Snape's wand died and he hastily shoved it back into his sleeve. "A variation of the Lumos spell." It was plainly obvious that Snape was struggling hard to keep his face from breaking into a satisfied grin. 

Harry came out of his stupor. "Wow! Can you teach me that? What spell did you use? How did you get the color? Is it difficult?" 

Snape pointed at a subway security man coming down the stairs. "Later, Potter." 

"But the Lumos spell ... ." Harry trailed off at the sight of the Muggle. 

With a polite nod in the direction of the security man Snape picked up the forgotten newspaper from the ground and pushed Harry to the train that had just pulled into the station. "Not here, Potter," he hissed. In the train Snape shoved Harry into an empty seat near the door while he leaned against the wall opposite of him. 

"You know, Ron would say that was bloody brilliant. The light spell, I mean." 

This time Snape could not quite hide his smile. "Indeed, would Mr. Weasley say so?"   
Harry nodded vehemently, but Snape's attention was already turned to the few Muggles in the car with them. 

"What does gerulus mean? It has to do with the light's color, right?" 

"Caeruleus, Potter. It's Latin for green." Obviously content with his scan of the other passengers Snape opened the newspaper that had served as Harry's weapon and started reading. 

Harry shifted excitedly in his seat. "And you are going to teach that to me, yes? Ron and Seamus will be so impressed." 

Snape let out an exasperated sigh. "Now, would you please stop behaving like a 6-year-old and allow me to read the paper." 

"But you'll teach me, won't you?" 

"Potter!" 

Harry impatiently looked around in the car and back at Snape who was in Harry's opinion doing a remarkable job pretending to read the old Muggle paper. Eventually a deep frown line appeared between his brows, the only part of his face that was not hidden behind the paper. 

"Professor? Could the light also be black or maybe blue? That would be cool." Snape didn't react. Since he seemed to have forgotten about his student's presence, Harry occupied himself with watching the Muggles and imagining Ron's and Seamus' surprised faces when he showed them the light saber spell.   
  


"Come on." He was pulled out of his daydreaming by Snape when they reached their station. 

On the dark street Harry pleaded, "Can you show me now, please?" Snape ignored him and walked briskly in the direction of the flat. Once again Harry had almost to run to keep his pace. "You know, I wasn't aware that you could easily change a spell like that." Snape quickly glanced at Harry sidelong and walked even faster. His face was set into the usual mask he wore in the Potions classroom. "No fair!" Harry cried, "There are no Muggles here. And you said you'd tell me…" 

"SHUT UP, Potter." Harry was taken aback by Snape's violent reaction. Hadn't he been in an unusually good, even playful mood after they had been to the movies? Could that man never behave like a decent and calculable human being?   
  


Once in the flat Snape pointed at a chair at the table. "Sit, Potter." 

"Hey, one moment you are all nice, and now you are ordering me around like, like..." 

"Just. Sit. Down. Potter." Snape's voice was dangerously low and even. Harry chose to obey and sat down. Snape walked over to the window and wordlessly lit a cigarette from a pack he had bought at the cinema. It didn't escape Harry's angry stare that it took him three matches to light it. 

Slowly Snape came back to the table where Harry was seated and dropped the evening paper he was still holding onto the table. "Read." 

Harry looked up. "The paper?" 

"No, the tea leaves." Snape rolled his eyes and drew at his cigarette. His hand was slightly trembling. When he noticed Harry staring at him he turned and walked briskly back to the window. 

Harry shrugged and started to read the headlines aloud. "'Health care workers demand higher wages', 'EU Commission decides on improved standards for workplace security', 'House of Lords postpones tax debate'" 

"The local news, Potter. Page five," came Snape's voice from the window. 

Harry turned to page five. "'Four dead in Little Whinging gas explosion'" 

He gasped and looked up, but Snape had turned his back to him. Underneath the headline was the picture of a house in ruins. Fire engines in the street blocked the view of most of it, but Harry recognized Uncle Vernon's company car in the driveway. Without doubt the picture showed 4 Privet Drive. 

He scanned the article, but his mind was suddenly too numb to concentrate on the text. Only fractions of information reached his awareness. "'This morning... all four occupants of the house dead immediately... neighbors say... supposedly explosion caused by a leaking gas line... Little Whinging police spokesman says... casualties among firefighters in second explosion... house belonged to Vernon Dursley, a director at Grunnings, the local drill manufacturer...'"   
  


"Potter?" It took a moment for Harry to react. Finally he looked up and saw Snape standing next to him, moving his hand as if he was about to touch Harry's shoulder. When Harry met his eyes he pulled his hand back, the gesture unfinished. 

"The Dursleys are dead." Harry heard himself say in an oddly calm voice. 

Snape nodded. "So it seems." 

"Do you think they were... do you think Voldemort?" 

Again Snape nodded. "Possibly. We must assume that they were attacked." 

"If they were killed..." Harry swallowed hard. His only remaining relatives were dead.   


Snape looked at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he went to the door leading into the other room. "I must contact the Headmaster tomorrow. By any means." He turned to Harry like he wanted to say some more, but then he silently left the room without offering any comfort. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~   


_**A/N**: I wish to thank all my reviewers. You guys make my day._   
_**Reaper**: I like Mrs. Figg, too. It's fun to explore minor characters from canon. And Mrs. Figg has a lot of potential._   
_**venus4280, Princess Kattera:** Glad you liked the gas station scene. I came very close to taking it out of the story twice._   
_**Nemesis**: No other stories soon, sorry. This is already taking up way too much of my time. I have 2 more fics posted on ff.net, but they were written when I had considerably less practice with writing in English._   
_**kbear**: If the characters are three-dimensional it is courtesy of JKR, who after all created them and their world. The action bits will come inevitably, and I hope you will like them, too._   
_**ShortySC22**: Meg, my beta-reader, helps my English a lot. I guess Snape-and-Harry-stories are so much fun because they are the most antagonistic characters in the series._   
_**lillilly:** I'd never write HP/SS slash. Not because I'm prejudiced against homosexuality, but because I cannot see that happening - it would be totally ooc. Btw, I could imagine Pery/Lucius._   
_**Aznangelicgurl89:** Well, Harry and Snape don't think it's funny they are forced to share a flat. Snape is practically begging me all the time to write a scene where he slips some lethal poison into Harry's drink._   
_**mimine**: Thanks for your detailed review. Of course the events of Godric's Hollow are still an unresolved issue between Snape and Harry._   
_**Prophetess Of Hearts:** Don't worry, Snape will have to revise his image of Arrogant!QuidditchStar! Harry. They have plenty of time now, and after all that's what this story is about._   
_**Zardiphillian Beryllix: **I didn't intend to have you wait so long between chapter 2 and 3. Sorry._   
_**Canary**: Reading fics is fun, but writing them is even more satisfying. : )_   
_**Japetha Razorwire**: You're right, I'm an absolute stickler to canon and obsessive nitpicker *waves to all L.O.O.N.s out there *. If all better fanfiction authors write original fics, I don't belong into that group. Sorry to disappoint you. (The 'live' mistake is corrected, thanks.)_   
_**ProfSnapeFan:** Apology accepted. : ) But it took me a lot of time to convince my supposedly more mature protagonist to cease throwing tantrums after reading your review._   
_**Schokosahnecremetoertchen**: Thanks for complimenting my writing, aber ich muss sagen, dein Englisch ist auch nicht gerade schlecht. Nice pen-name._

_Thanks for your encouragement** besnaped, Setsuri, Babypopstar, Nicanole-15, tolkienite, TatraMegami, Deity,** and** abby.**_   



	5. Good Intentions

_**Summary**: Harry Potter was looking forward on spending some weeks with the Weasleys. Severus Snape thought he would just run another quick errand for the Headmaster. But suddenly they find themselves on the run, and far away from Hogwarts the Boy-Who-Lived and the Death-Eater-Turned-Spy discover that behind the facades they are both only human. Guest Appearances by Mrs. Figg, the Dursleys and everyone's favorite dog-animagus. NO SLASH!_   
  


**_Disclaimer_**   
_Mrs. Rowling owns the world of Harry Potter. I don't._   
_I only borrow some of her characters to play around with them._   
_Porthos, the musketeer, is a brainchild of Alexandre Dumas._   
  
  


**Beta read by MartianHouseCat (everyone go and read her stories!)**   


**Unfamiliar Roads**   
**By Clio**   


**Chapter 5 – Good Intentions**

Long after Snape had retired to his room, Harry switched off the lights and lay down on the couch. Somehow he had the feeling that sleep wouldn't come easily. The Dursleys were dead. Slaughtered by Voldemort, enemy of the wizarding world the Dursleys had all their lives feared and hated. Ironic.   


Harry felt his stomach cramping._ If Voldemort could attack the Dursleys, he could hunt him down anywhere, couldn't he?_ It was pure chance that Harry hadn't been at their house. But how could he so selfishly think about his own welfare tonight? _This was not right. He should mourn the death of his only remaining relatives, shouldn't he?_   


He had remained calm and detached when Cedric was killed a year ago. But he had been a child then. Now he was 16, almost an adult. _And men don't cry, do they?_   
Harry swallowed hard. He had seen some of his schoolmates having nervous breakdowns right in the Great Hall when they got the Ministry's letter about the death of a family member. He had seen tears glittering even in McGonagall's eyes when Cedric had been killed. _So why wasn't he able to mourn the people he had lived with for 15 years?_ Hadn't he even been at the movies today when the Dursleys had already been dead?   


He rubbed his scar and concentrated hard, but unsuccessfully on falling asleep. He felt strangely detached. His throat was not tight, his eyes were not burning and his chin did not quiver a bit. _Maybe he wasn't like other people?_ Maybe he was not normal, his emotions were not normal?   


_Dysfunctional_. A word Aunt Marge had once used for him. _Maybe she was right?_ Suddenly Harry felt his heart beat in his throat. He jumped to his feet. Light. He needed to switch the light on; he needed to stop thinking in this creepy way. Now.   


He tried to get to the light switch by the door, but couldn't find it. Panic took over, as he felt his way around, disorientated in the unfamiliar dark room. Where was the wretched switch? The air was suddenly very hot and it became difficult for Harry to breathe. Frantically he doubled his efforts to search for the switch.   


With a bang one of the chairs toppled over as Harry bumped into it. He froze. Had Snape heard the sound of the falling chair? Desperately he held his labored breathing to listen to any movement in the other room. He couldn't deal with an angry Potions teacher right now.   


No such luck. The door to the adjacent room flew open and Snape stepped into the dark living room. He immediately switched the light on. "Potter? What the hell..." His voice trailed off when he saw Harry standing by the door, face covered with sweat and hands trembling.   


Harry swallowed. "I…" he cleared his dry throat. "I just wanted to... to get some water."   


Snape pocketed the wand he was holding. "Water? It's 2 o'clock in the morning, Potter!" He cast a skeptical look at Harry before he turned to the tap by the fridge and filled a glass. Brushing past Harry and he set it onto the wooden coffee table, hard. "Here, your water." Under Snape's penetrating stare Harry slowly went to the couch and sat down, not touching the glass.   


With a derisive snort Snape turned on his heel. He had already his hand on the doorknob, when Harry called upon him. "Professor? Do you think I'm dysfunctional?" 

Snape's grip around the doorknob hardened. Stiffly he turned to Harry. "Do I think you are what?" 

Harry lowered gaze to the blanket on the couch and started to pull free a thread from the seem. "Dysfunctional," he mumbled, "um, I mean, do you think, in a way, that I'm not normal?" 

Snape blinked in disbelief and let go of the handle. "Where on earth did you get that idea? I certainly don't treat you like a celebrity, but..." 

"No," Harry shook his head, "that's not what I mean. You see, the Dursleys are dead, and I, I don't feel bad about it." He spread his arms in despair. "See, I don't cry." 

Snape walked towards Harry until he was looming over him. "And why do you think that makes you, well, dysfunctional?" 

"A normal person would grieve, wouldn't he? I mean, the Dursleys were never overly nice to me, but they brought me up; I played with Dudley's toys and all. Now they are dead. Am I not meant to grieve or something? Maybe, maybe they were right all along, I'm a freak." Harry looked up to meet Snape's eyes. Instead of the cold fury he somehow expected to see there, he found Snape looking at him with something resembling concern. 

"Do I look like I expect you to bawl your eyes out?" 

"No, sir. Um, but the others..."   


"The others!" Snape rolled his eyes. With a sigh he sat down on the other side of the couch, as far as possible from Harry and pulled a cigarette out of the pack that was lying on the table. "Potter, believe me, I know this cannot be easy for you." He shoved the unlit cigarette back into the pack forcefully. "Give yourself a little more time. This is not a game of Quidditch, for heavens sake! It is fine if you need some time to sort through your feelings before you react. It certainly does not make you a freak; I can assure you are perfectly normal. Well, as normal Hogwarts' star seeker and the Boy-who-lived can be." 

He glanced over to Harry, who was in no condition to respond in any way to Snape's barb. Snape's wry smile faded and his lips thinned into a sharp line. His eyes still resting on Harry he said somberly, "They all expect a lot from you, don't they? The Order, the Ministry, and your fellow Gryffindors. Sometimes I wonder..." Harry looked away. He couldn't bear to be pitied by his most hated teacher. Snape, sensing his discomfort, trailed off. He got up suddenly and walked towards the door but turned before he reached it, his face set into his usual stern mask. "Try and sleep now, Potter. We might have to leave this place tomorrow." Without another look at Harry he swept into the other room. 

Harry stared at the closed door for a long time. Was Snape indeed capable of something like sympathy for him? He was very confused now, but at least Snape had pulled him out of the panic he had been in earlier.   


* * *

The next morning Harry woke to an annoying tapping. He groaned tiredly. His body felt as if he had only slept a few short hours, and considering his state yesterday, that was probably the case. The annoying sound didn't stop, so Harry finally opened his eyes. 

Close to the foot of the couch hovered Professor Snape, his arms crossed and his foot tapping the carpet impatiently. "Finally, Potter," he snarled, his customary sneer fixed on his face. 

Harry sat up drowsily. He always felt vulnerable when Snape was looming over him, and being sprawled on one's back didn't help matters. "Morning, Professor." 

Harry couldn't imagine what he'd done so early in the day to invoke Snape's irritation. Then he remembered Snape's awkward attempt to console him after his panic attack the previous night. Harry searched Snape's face for a trace of the sympathy he foggily remembered to have been there yesterday, but he found nothing but a mask of impatience. Tentatively he smiled up at him, but the smile was not returned. 

"Potter, I need more precise information on the events in Little Whinging." Harry flinched. Snape regarded him pensively for a moment. Then he said, "I will go and find some Muggle papers, possibly get in touch with one or two Muggle contacts the Order has in London. I should be back in approximately one hour. You can stay here; the flat should be safe. I trust you to be here alone without creating major havoc or getting yourself into trouble, as hard as that may be for someone with a penchant for rule breaking, like yourself. If you move a mere inch away from these rooms I shall have you pickle toad brains until Christmas. Understood?" Harry nodded sheepishly. "And try to get some more sleep, you look like a ghoul."   
  


After Snape had left the flat, Harry contemplated getting up and showering, just to spite Snape's last admonition, but he was too tired. He was just nodding off, when he heard a sharp knock at the door. 

"Harry! You in there?" 

Harry rubbed his neck. How long had he been dozing? Was Snape back already? "Yeah," he called hesitantly. 

With a cloud of yellow smoke the door flew open and in the doorway, brandishing his wand like an avenging angel, stood his godfather Sirius Black. "Harry!" With three quick strides he was at the couch and pulling his godson into a firm hug. "I'm so glad I found you." 

"Sirius." Harry allowed himself to go limp in his godfather's embrace. It felt good to be simply held by another human being. He would have liked a hug last night, but despite his uncharacteristic kindness Snape had been far from touching, let alone hugging Harry when he had talked to him. But now Sirius was here, sent by Dumbledore to retrieve him from Snape's doubtful care. They would go to Hogwarts and everything would be alright.   


Harry sighed in relief. "So happy you are here, Sirius," he muttered into his godfather's shoulder. 

Sirius drew back and a triumphant smile crept onto his features. "That snake thought he was clever, but I figured out he was hiding you here. I'm not stupid, you know." 

"Who was clever?" 

Sirius held his godson at an arms length and scanned him carefully. "What did the git do to you? You look terrible! Whatever he did, I swear he will not get away with it this time." 

"What are you talking about, Sirius?" 

"Snape, of course. Where is he, anyway?" 

"He'll be back soon." Something definitely was not right. A suspicion sneaked into Harry's slightly confused and still sleepy brain. "You are supposed to fetch me to go to Hogwarts, aren't you?" 

"I was thinking of a more fun place, the Caribbean maybe, but if you want to, we can go to Hogwarts. Sure. Why not." 

"But Dumbledore..." 

"What about the Headmaster?" 

Harry and Sirius stared at each other, both bearing an equally perplexed look. "You weren't sent by Dumbledore?" 

"No. Why should I have been? I was concerned for your life, so I came looking for you." 

Harry was dumbfounded. "Why?" 

"Snape kidnapped you, don't you remember?" Sirius placed a worried hand on Harry's forehead. "Hmm, you don't have fever. Maybe he confunded you?" 

Harry shook off Sirius' hand, now fully awake. "Snape didn't kidnap me, and he didn't cast a curse on me, either. He was actually quite nice."   


Sirius looked at Harry as if he had grown a second head. Then he pulled him into a tight embrace again. "The Confundus Curse. Poor kid, you are talking nonsense. Don't worry; there is a counter-spell for the Confundus. We will take care of that later. What else did he do to you?" 

Harry struggled free. "No, Sirius. Nothing happened." 

"Nothing?" Sirius jumped to his feet and started ticking off his fingers. "The Death Eaters blew up the safety perimeter in Little Whinging some days ago, the Dursleys were killed, Snape kidnapped you, and he's holding you prisoner in this bloody flat."   
He held up the last remaining finger – his pinky. "But worry not. It's Porthos Black to your rescue! Taa daa!" He spread his arms wide and then bowed deeply in front of Harry, waving his arms like windmill sails. Despite the obvious misconception Harry had to laugh at Sirius' little act. 

"Come on, Harry, let's go quickly before the greasy snake reappears." Harry didn't move. "What is it, hurry!" 

"Um, Sirius, I really appreciate your coming here, but things are not as they appear. Snape didn't kidnap me. I'm here voluntarily. He brought me to London on Dumbledore's request." 

"On Dumbledore's request? Impossible. Dumbledore would have him bringing you to Hogwarts; it's the safest place these days. If he would send Snape, that is. Even the Muggle authorities are looking for that slimeball because of the explosion at the Dursleys." 

"What?" 

Harry's puzzlement must have shown in his face, because Sirius crouched down in front of him and said very slowly, as if explaining to a small child, "It's in the Muggle papers, Harry. He was seen around Privet Drive by Muggles, behaving in a very suspicious manner. They're looking for him for questioning."   


Before Harry could answer they heard the sound of a turning key. Sirius jumped to his feet again. The door opened and Snape stepped into the room, under one arm a bunch of papers, in the other a shopping bag. It caught Harry's eye that for the first time since they had left Mrs. Figg's Snape didn't carry his arm in the sling. 

"Ah, just the man I came here to see," growled Sirius. 

"Black!" Snape dropped the bag and the papers and drew his wand in one fluent, well practiced motion. Some scones and apples rolled over the floor. Without looking he kicked the door shut. 

"Whoa, easy Snape. I just came to pick up my godson." 

Snape lowered the wand. "Pick up your godson?" 

"Yes, free him from your clutches. Harry will leave now with me. Come on." Sirius kept his eyes fixed on Snape's face when he motioned to Harry to stand up. 

"Sirius, wait a minute, I told you there is a misunderstanding here," Harry said. 

Snape sneered at Sirius and put away his wand. After his initial agitation at seeing his rival had worn off, he seized his first chance to get back the control of the situation. "Looks like your precious godson has more brains than you. Maybe he wants to stay with me." 

Sirius turned to Harry with a look of utter disbelief and shock. Harry shrugged helplessly. "No, of course I would love to come with you, Sirius, but… but…" 

Sensing Harry's hesitancy Snape pressed the matter. "You want to go with Black? Fine. Do that and, you'll be Dementor fodder in no time. The whole wizarding world is still on the lookout for Black. And don't forget all those Death Eaters that will be at your heels. What will you do? Hide in some remote forest and hunt mice and salamanders for dinner? Come on, Potter, you're not that daft. You would not be safe. Black has no inkling what is really going on." 

"And you do?" 

"Yes, I do." Snape stated with an air of arrogance that made Harry want to throttle him. "Trust Albus judgement, if you cannot trust mine. After all it was his idea to have me play bodyguard for you." As much as Harry hated to admit it, Snape had a point.   


Sirius found his voice again. "Don't believe him, not a single word, Harry. He lies as soon as he opens his mouth." He stepped closer to Snape. "You might be pulling the wool over Dumbledore's eyes, but you are not fooling me, Snape." 

Snape crossed his arms, an amused smile played over his features. "Really? Pray tell me, what's the crime you believe me guilty of now?" 

"You kidnapped Harry, and killed the Dursleys." Sirius shouted, his face turning red with anger. 

"That's ridiculous, Black." Snape's stance became, if possible, more relaxed and calm – a strong and carefully calculated contrast to the other wizard's rage. 

Sirius turned towards Harry once again. "Please Harry, come with me. He has you confunded. You don't know what you're doing. And you don't know what _he's_ capable of doing." He gestured helplessly towards Snape. "Harry," he said urgently, "I have reason to believe he still supports You-know-who. He's a Death Eater." 

Snape clapped his hands in a mock applause. "Oh, brilliant, fleabag. Your talent for deduction scares me. Will you tell Dumbledore?" 

"Trust me, I will. I will reveal all your little schemes to the Headmaster. I happen to know that you also participated in the first attack on Privet Drive"   


Harry scratched his head. Was it possible that both men were working for the Order of the Phoenix and yet Sirius still didn't know about Snape being a spy? On the other hand it made sense for the Headmaster to keep them as separate from each other as possible.   


Snape smiled wickedly at Sirius. "Now, that you have found out about my darkest secret, I will have to kill you, Black." Harry wasn't quite sure if Snape was still mocking Sirius. 

"You could do so, but that wouldn't help your situation. I've been investigating, and I've found out enough to put you into Azkaban. Maybe I've already placed some information in the hands of the Ministry and Hogwarts' Board of Governors."   


With an angry hiss Snape grabbed Sirius by the collar of his jacket and shoved him hard into the wall. "For your own good and the safety of us all, keep your nose out of my affairs, Black. Leave this flat. Now." 

Sirius hands shot up to catch Snape's wrists. "I'm not leaving without Harry, you arrogant bastard." 

Snape sneered at him. "You are in no position to insult my parentage. Unlike you, I don't have to look up my ancestors in a dog breeding menu." The sneer changed into a malicious smile. "Which leads me to the question – have some animal lovers managed to get you fixed yet to prevent such unfortunate accidents like yourself in the future? I would happily assist…" 

Snape was cut off by Sirius fist landing square in his face with an ugly crunching noise. He staggered back a few steps. Blood gushed from his nose. For a blink of an eye both wizards stared at each other in shock. Then Snape roared "Black!" and lunged at his opponent.   


Harry speechlessly watched the sudden eruption of violence in front of him. Both were able to deal a few hard punches before Harry realized that this was different from a quarrel in the halls of Hogwarts, and that he had to break the two men apart before either could draw a wand and possibly kill the other. He dove for his own wand, forgotten on the couch table. Just as Harry turned around, Sirius aimed a blow at Snape's head that he managed to dodge. Sirius' fist caught his shoulder instead. With a pained yell Snape doubled over and fell to his knees, clutching his shoulder in much the same fashion he had at Mrs. Figg's two days ago.   


Sirius seemed to be a bit surprised by he effect of his last blow. It didn't last long. "You need more exercise, Snape." He kicked him in the ribs. 

"No. Sirius, stop," shouted Harry horrified before Sirius could kick Snape a second time. Quickly he moved between the two men and gripped Sirius upper arms. Reluctantly he turned his attention to his godson. Harry took a step back when he saw the same wildness in Sirius' wide-open eyes that had been there when he had attempted to kill Peter Pettigrew in the Shrieking Shack in Harry's 3rd year. "Please, Sirius, calm down. It's enough." 

"You have to crush the snake's skull, or it will rise it's ugly head again and again." Sirius eyes flickered to Snape, who was already attempting to get to his feet with the support of the table. 

Then Sirius shook his head as if to clear his mind. "Let's go Harry, before he recovers." He darted to the door. 

Harry doubted that leaving with Sirius would be the right decision. If only he could talk sense into his godfather. "You coming, Harry?" Sirius waited at the door. 

"I'm just going to grab my stuff. Go ahead and see if the coast is clear outside, I'll catch up with you." Sirius nodded. Without effort he fell to his hands and knees and turned into a great black dog.   
  


When the dog had disappeared into the dim hallway Harry turned towards Snape. His teacher leaned against the table with closed eyes, the right arm hanging limply at his side. With the other hand he carefully prodded the bridge of his profusely bleeding nose. 

"Professor? Are you alright?" 

Snape opened his eyes. Like Sirius's they were glittering with barely restrained fury. "You still here?" He coughed and spat out some blood that had run into his mouth. Harry made a movement towards him, but froze when Snape said icily, "Leave, Potter, there is nothing to gloat about." 

"I, I…" Harry stuttered. 

"You really think you are better off with that idiot Black, don't you?" 

"He is no idiot. At least he cares for me," Harry protested. 

Snape stared angrily at him. Then he briskly moved to the door and held it open for Harry. "Go, if you prefer to stay with you godfather. And good riddance. A lot of good it will do for both of you."   


Harry exhaled deeply. Deep inside a little voice told him that it was safer to stay with Snape. And hadn't he gone out of his nasty way to show him something resembling sympathy yesterday night? And hadn't he been nice and even humorous after they had been at the movies? But after all this was Snape, the man who had loathed his father and did his best to make Harry's life at Hogwarts a misery. And Snape was Sirius's arch-enemy.   
Maybe if he explained everything calmly to Sirius he would understand why Harry chose to stay with Snape.   


"Well?" Snape spat impatiently at the door. 

Harry cleared his throat. "Sirius is waiting for me outside. I need to talk to him for a minute." 

"If you walk through this door, you don't need to come back, Potter." Snape's voice was cold and commanding. He wasn't going to make things easy. 

Harry looked at him pleadingly. "I'll be back in a minute." 

Snape did his best to sneer at Harry while the blood was running down his chin. "You heard me. The matter is settled."   


Harry made a step into the direction of the doorway. He was standing next to Snape now. "You leave me no choice, Professor." For a fleeting moment he thought he saw something like hurt cross over Snape's blood-smeared features. But then it was gone, and Harry purposefully strode through the door Snape still held open.   


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_Thanks to everyone who reviewed my story!!_   
_**Nicky**: You are an excellent observer. There were indeed four not three bodies found in the house. I will come back to this in chapter 6 or 7. Oh, and of course that quote was from 'The Empire Strikes Back'. *blushes*_   
_**Atheis and Aeris Gainsborough:** ROTFL. I'm happy if you are._   
_**RogueAngel**: I agree, it's fun to see how the relationship between Snape and Harry develops when they are pulled out of their usual environment._   
_**besnaped, iejasu, Zorra**: I actually think the lightsaber part was a bit ooc for Snape, but I just couldn't resist._   
_**Zeebee, Princess Kattera**: It's amazing what movies can do for your mood, isn't it?_   
_**Helen**: You ask the right questions, congratulations! The answers to those will be given in the next chapter. And it was no mistake, there were indeed four victims in the Dursleys' house._   
_**mimine**: Three words - you embarrass me. Thanks. (Well, those were four words. I hope I could live up to your expectations with this chapter.)_   
_**Lolajack**: Couldn't believe Snape wouldn't comfort Harry in the last chapter? I'd find it much less believable if he actually comforted him._   
_**Ossobucco**: Your reviews mean a lot to me. I can see how much effort you put in there, thank you._

_Thanks for your support, **Sevrin, Sandrine Black, **and** landersh.**_   



	6. A Sirius Talk

_**Summary**: Harry Potter was looking forward on spending some weeks with the Weasleys. Severus Snape thought he would just run another quick errand for the Headmaster. But suddenly they find themselves on the run, and far away from Hogwarts the Boy-Who-Lived and the Death-Eater-Turned-Spy discover that behind the facades they are both only human. Guest Appearances by Mrs. Figg, the Dursleys and everyone's favorite dog-animagus. NOT SLASH!_   


**_Disclaimer_**   
_Mrs. Rowling owns the world of Harry Potter. I don't._   
_I only borrow some of her characters to play around with them._   
  


**Not beta-read yet**   
  
**** ****

**Unfamiliar Roads**   
**by Clio******

**Chapter 6 –A Sirius Talk**

Behind him Harry could hear the door being slammed shut. He sighed and trudged down the corridor of the tenement house. _What should he tell Sirius?_ A curious Muggle woman had poked her head out of the door to see what all the commotion in the hallway was about, but retreated quickly when Harry looked at her. 

Down on the street it took him a while to locate Sirius. Then he noticed a shaggy black head peeking around the back of a parked car. The dog barked once and trotted towards the entrance of a small park, which was squeezed between two brick houses a little further down the road. Before he followed his godfather in an appropriate distance Harry quickly glanced up to the flat, where he thought he saw a shadow behind the window.   
  
Once in the lonely park he looked around in confusion until he spotted the black dog between some neglected-looking rose bushes. Harry crouched down next to Sirius who extended his front leg and pawed Harry's arm as if he wanted to play with him. Surprised Harry held out his arm and immediately a heavy paw fell onto it. After a quick glance around Sirius transformed, using the offered arm as support when he stood up. 

He pulled Harry up, too. "Almost thought you wouldn't make it!" 

Harry flinched when Sirius had attained his human form. Snape's face had been a bloody mess when he had left him, and Sirius was not better off. One eye was already swollen shut, and his lower lip was split. 

"Um, you don't look particularly good, Sirius." 

Sirius smirked. "I don't care, as long as that Slytherin git looks worse. He _is_ worse to wear, right?" 

Harry doubted that the fight, judging by the visible injuries, had seen Sirius as the true winner, but kept that to himself. "I think you have broken his nose." 

"About time. I have fantasized about doing just that since I was in school." Sirius inspected his hand, where the skin over the knuckles was chafed. "Hurts a bit, but it certainly was worth it." He stretched his fingers. "I will heal that later. We have to hurry now." He looked around Harry. "Where is your trunk? You haven't left it in the flat, have you?" 

Harry didn't answer. 

"Oh, no. Harry! Now we have to go up and collect it. And I bet Snape will be seething. Maybe there is another way to retrieve it. We could summon your trunk and Hedwig's cage. No, that would be too peculiar with all the Muggles around. Maybe I could howl under the window until Snape throws the trunk after me." Sirius wriggled his eyebrows. "Nah, it's a stupid idea. He'd probably throw his shoe at me, and then I'd pass out from the smell, don't you think?" Sirius flashed a smile at Harry and started to pace in front of him. "Suppose one of us could distract the old snake, the other could ..." 

"Sirius, wait." Harry cleared his throat to get rid of the sudden tightness. He wasn't successful. "We don't need to get my things. I'm not coming with you." 

Sirius stopped pacing and blinked twice. "What?" 

Harry took a deep breath. "You know, Snape is really acting on Dumbledore's request. Dumbledore knows I'm here. He didn't kidnap me." 

"But, but it's ... _Snape_!" 

"I know. It sounds a bit strange, but he really was not unfriendly to me." 

"Harry, there is something fishy going on! Snape never shows any kindness, towards no-one. Are you sure it's not a trap? " 

"Snape came to Mrs. Figg's to pick me up. There he was told to go to London with me." 

"But did you actually see him talking to the Headmaster about it?" 

"No. Mrs. Figg ..." 

"Ha!" Sirius interrupted Harry. "See, I told you there was something wrong." 

"Sirius, please. I saw Mrs. Figg talking to Professor Dumbledore about Snape taking me to London." 

Apparently Harry had finally convinced Sirius. He was silent for a moment before he started pacing again. "Okay, okay. He did not kidnap you. Good. Now, what do we do? Since I'm here now, there is no more need for him to harass you. You could just go up to the flat again and tell him that I will take over from here. Then you grab your stuff and we disappear from London. Easy piece of cake!" Sirius stopped and grinned at Harry. 

"No, Sirius, you still don't understand." 

"I don't?" 

Harry braced himself for the hardest part. "I think it would maybe be better if I stayed with Snape." 

"You don't want to come with me?" The disappointment in Sirius voice was obvious. Harry was unable to meet his eyes when he nodded. 

"Why? Harry, I'm your godfather. Do you think I cannot take care of you?" 

"Of course you can. It's just that ... that you are still hiding from the Aurors. They are still searching for you." Harry bit his lips and started to pry leaves from the bush next to him. 

"Well, we don't need to stay in England, you know. We could go to Jamaica, or maybe Hawaii." Sirius said flatly. 

"Sirius, I cannot explain it properly, but I think it is better if I stayed in Britain. Maybe I can help if there is really an attack at Hogwarts or something." 

Sirius stepped towards Harry and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You don't need to worry about that, Harry. Dumbledore is a very powerful wizard. He can look after Hogwarts himself. No need for you to feel responsible." 

Harry shrugged. "But I have the twin of Voldemort's wand, and my blood is mixed with his since his re-birth. Maybe they will need me to fight him." 

"I wish you would stop saying his name, Harry. You are way to brave for your own good." Sirius smiled at his godson with a mixture of sorrow and pride. "And so you figured it would be better for you to stay here with Snape?" 

Harry nodded mutely. 

Sirius lifted his arms and let them fall back helplessly again. "Harry, I meant what I said earlier. Snape really was a Death Eater. He is a dangerous man." 

"I'll watch my back, Sirius." 

Sirius looked down to the ground, where he pushed a stone around with the tip of his shoe. "Maybe you are right Harry. It probably will be the best if you stayed with Snape. It is just ... you know, I would have really loved to spend some time with you. Not as a dog, like last year, but as myself. You ... you are growing up so fast, you know." 

Harry again felt his throat tighten. 

"It would be so nice, the two of us together. Relaxing on a beach in the Caribbean, watching the dolphins. And fix us a nice meal right there on the beach from some fish we caught. We could play some Quidditch." 

It sounded wonderful, but somewhere back in his mind Harry heard Snape's mocking voice asking _What will you do? Hide in some remote forest and hunt mice and salamanders for dinner?_

For some minutes Harry and Sirius only looked at each other, unable to say anything. Above them a blackbird launched into an inappropriately cheerful song. Then Sirius broke the silence. "Did Snape say what he wants to do now?" 

Harry shrugged. Snape hadn't told him anything about his plans. Come to think of it, Snape hadn't told him anything at all. They had barely talked to each other in the last 24 hours. "I guess it is time for me to go back then. And you also should leave before anyone sees you." 

Sirius nodded. "Ok." 

Harry hugged him. "Thank you. Thank you for understanding." 

"I still don't like the idea, Harry. To stay with Snape, of all people! I'm sure James would turn in his grave if he knew what you are doing," Sirius mumbled into Harry's shoulder. 

Harry drew back. "I'll be fine, Sirius." 

Sirius nodded grimly. "You better are, because if that Slytherin snake hurts you in any way, I swear I will find him and break him more than just his nose. You can tell him that."   
  


After his farewell from Sirius Harry slowly trudged back up the stairs. _Had he made the right decision?_ Up in the hallway Harry's doubts became even stronger. _What if Snape would refuse to let him back into the flat?_ Harry had been convinced it was an empty threat when he had gone to talk to Sirius, but now he was not so sure anymore. 

When he reached the door it took Harry a great effort to knock. He hesitated and watched his hand hover over the peeling paint for a moment. _He had faced Voldemort, and a basilisk, and now he was afraid to talk to Snape? Ridiculous. He was a Gryffindor lion, right? Roar, roar. It was his bloody right to be here._

Harry knocked and waited. Nothing happened. Again he rapped the door. And finally, when Harry was already contemplating to leave, the door opened. One look at Snape, and Harry was not so sure anymore that he wouldn't curse him on the spot. He was still fuming. Angrily he glowered at Harry, his wand ready in his hand. 

"What do you want, Potter?" he spat. 

Harry desperately searched for words. The Gryffindor lion in him had slinked off and gone into hiding. 

"Well?" 

"I ... I ..." Harry's mind remained blank. 

"Stop stuttering, Potter. And get out of my sight." 

"No. I ... er ..." 

"Speak in coherent sentences when you are addressing me!" Snape hollered. 

Harry winced. The nosy woman he had seen earlier stuck her head out into the hallway again. Snape, who had noticed her, too, glared into her direction, but she only pulled the door a little bit closer and continued to watch them through the cleft. 

"Um, couldn't we talk inside?" 

Snape looked down at him. Then, without another word he stepped away from the door. Harry hesitated before he followed him into the flat and closed the door gingerly. 

Snape stood next to the couch with his arms folded over his chest and studied Harry wordlessly. His nose had stopped bleeding, but it looked swollen and sore. Through the open bathroom door Harry could see that the first aid cabinet was open. A blood stained towel lay on the floor. It seemed that Harry had just interrupted Snape in tending to his wounds. Harry swallowed. 

"Well, Potter," Snape said again. 

"I ... er, thought I, .. . I should ... um, could, could I stay with you?" 

Snape tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "I didn't hear you properly." 

"Could I stay here? With you? Please." 

For a long time Snape looked at him as if he was especially disgusting potion brewed by Neville Longbottom. One with green lumps. And a really bad odor. 

"Pathetic. If only you could see how pathetic you are, Potter." Snape turned on his heel and went into the bathroom. 

Harry stood forlorn in the middle of the living room. "Right. Well, thank you, um, I suppose. Professor?" 

Snape didn't answer. Through the wide cracks of the warped wooden bathroom door Harry could see bright flashes of light followed by muffled curses. Obviously Snape had moved from potions to spells to heal whatever damage Sirius had done. 

Harry went over to the couch and sat down uneasy. _Had returning to the flat really been the right thing? Snape certainly had not looked as if he appreciated Harry's decision._

Then Snape emerged from the bathroom, but he shot Harry, who froze on the couch, only a brief, unpleasant glare before he vanished into the bedroom. 

After a while Snape, who now had changed from the bloodstained shirt into a fresh one, returned to the living room. "Get your things together, Potter. We're leaving." 

"W-why?" Harry looked up to meet Snape's eye. The proportions and color of his nose seemed to be almost back to normal. 

"If that imbecile Black can find us here, anyone can. And get your owl out of the cage, Potter." 

"Hedwig? Why?" 

"Because I want it to deliver a letter. Now hurry." 

"Who is the letter going to?" 

Snape stepped closer. "I don't believe that's any of your business, Potter." 

Harry decided not to be put off that easily. "She is my owl. I want to know where you sent her." 

Snape had already brushed by him and opened Hedwig's cage at the window. "I don't care what you want." 

Hedwig hissed angrily, and when he reached inside the cage she hacked at his fingers. Snape cursed and jerked back his hand. "Potter! Come here and get that wretched bird of yours out of the cage." 

Harry didn't move. "I won't do anything before you tell me where you are going to send her." 

Snape stared at him. "Three points from Gryffindor," he snarled. 

Harry took all his courage together. "We are not in school, Professor." 

Although Snape didn't bat an eyelash Harry could tell from years of experience that he was furious. The veins in his temples were clearly visible. After a moment he broke his eye contact with Harry and pulled an envelope out from his pocket. He slammed onto the windowsill. Harry moved closer, but couldn't to see the address, which was covered by Snape's palm still resting on the envelope. 

"I warn you, Potter. I'm not in the mood for your childish antics." Snape hissed and withdrew his hand.   


The address on the envelope read: 

_To the Ministry of Magic_   
_Department of Accidental Magic Reversal_   
_Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office_   
_Mr. A. Weasley (confidential)_

Harry swallowed. _They were arguing about a letter to Arthur Weasley?_ He looked up to Snape, who had folded his arms and was regarding him with a calculating expression. "You are sending a letter to Mr. Weasley? Why?" 

Snape rolled his eyes. "I thought he would be an obvious choice to contact the Order. He is working at the Ministry here in London, where he gets a lot of owls. Even an owl as striking as yours will not attract attention. " Snape grimaced towards Hedwig. "The Order needs to know you are with me, and that we will not stay in this place. I also would imagine the Weasley family including that nosy Granger girl to be very worried about you after the latest news from Little Whinging. I can't afford the whole Weasley clan to snivel after us like Black did." 

Harry swallowed. _He hadn't thought about the Weasleys_. Of course they would be out of their minds in worry if they read the paper. And Hermoine, too.   
"What if the letter is intercepted?" he asked, not wanting to let Snape know he had a valid point. 

"It is coded with a spell Arthur will recognize. Why, Mr. Potter, don't you deem your -beast- trustworthy enough to deliver the letter directly Arthur?" Snape smiled sardonically at Harry 

Hedwig bristled in her cage. Harry, not having an answer to that, snatched the letter from the windowsill and tied it to Hedwig's leg. His hands were shaking with anger._ Why did Snape have to play mind games? Did he want to test Harry's trust in him?_

"Tell your bird to stay with the Weasleys. It is too easily recognized to be of use for you under the current circumstances." Snape snarled from the door. Again he was right, and Harry hated him for that. 

After he had Hedwig sent on her way, Harry took his trunk and went over to the door, where Snape was angrily struggling with a Muggle style jacket. With difficulties he finally managed to lift his injured arm high enough to slide it into the sleeve. When he saw that Harry was watching him, he barked: "Move, Potter, what are you waiting for?" 

A minute later they sat in the car. On their way down the hall Snape had quickly pointed his wand at the door of the nosy woman and muttered a few words under his breath. Harry was sure it had been an especially nasty curse. 

* * *

  


None of them spoke while they drove through London. To Harry's surprise Snape parked the car in a small but busy street. He had suspected that they would leave the town. 

"Where are we?" 

"Look into the rear mirror, " Snape told him. "Do you see the entrance to the alley there? The one next to the laundry?" 

"Yes." 

"In that alley the back entrance to Slug & Jiggers Apothecary is located. It is a passage into Diagon Alley. " 

Harry looked at him wide-eyed. "We are going to Diagon Alley?" 

"Wrong, Potter. I am going to Diagon Ally, you will stay in the car. I need to have a word with a person or two." 

"What if you meet one of your Death Eater friends?" 

Harry had expected Snape to become angry over this remark, but Snape's face only contorted into a self-satisfied smirk. He pulled a potion vial from the inner pocket of his jacket. "This, Potter, is a strictly controlled and not quite legal potion by the name of Polyjuice Potion. I don't expect you to know it, since it is a very advanced potion, which is far beyond your knowledge of the subject." 

Harry bit his lip. His memories of him, Ron and Hermione brewing said potion in their second year were quite livid. 

Snape, however, misread his reaction. "I see you remember Crouch using it to impose Mr. Moody two years ago." 

Harry nodded meekly. Somehow this made Snape fall into his classroom mode. "The potion is very difficult to brew. It demands a high amount of precision in both timing and measuring the ingredients. It's a potion I wouldn't even allow my 7th year students to touch." 

Harry had trouble to not break into a grin. _Hermione had managed to brew the potion in her second year_. Either the potion was not as difficult as Snape described it, or his own skills as a Potion Master were not nearly as high as he always made his classes believe. 

Snape, not knowing how familiar Harry was with the potion, used the opportunity to lecture him further. "Polyjuice Potion contains among other things bicorn horn, the skin of a boomslang, fluxweed and leeches. The combination of these ingredients makes it very volatile at times. Do you know another potion where leeches are used in, Potter?" 

Harry flinched. 

Snape again looked very satisfied with himself. "I believe the Shrinking Solution was part of your 3rd year curriculum, wasn't it? I don't think you will pass your N.E.W.T.S. if you keep paying that little attention to your classes." He smiled unfriendly. 

Harry wished he could rub into Snape's face that he knew all about the stupid Polyjuice Potion, even had already brewed it himself. 

The glee vanished from Snape's face, and he became very serious again. "The use of Polyjuice Potion is quite dangerous and therefore the Ministry tries to keep close tabs on it. Almost like Veritaserum. If not made correctly, or if the dose is too large, both have devastating effects on the users mind. There have been cases in which people were stuck in their Polyjuice persona or were rendered insane when the potion was wearing of. Some officials view both Veritaserum and Polyjuice Potion as dark magic, because of the possibilities of manipulation and their interference with the very structure of the mind or the body respectively." 

While Snape swirled the potion in its vial pensively Harry thought of Hermione's face covered with cat hair. _Had she known that Polyjuice Potion could be dangerous? Probably not._ All of a sudden he was not sure if brewing the Polyjuice all by themselves had been a good idea back then. He was jerked from his musings by a sudden movement in the driver's seat. 

Snape had knocked back the potion. In amazement Harry watched his hair getting shorter and lighter, his long arms and legs shortening, and his whole body filling out and aging. When the process halted Harry found himself looking at a plump man around sixty with short gray hair and a lot of merry wrinkles around the eyes. Snape pulled the small mirror towards him and took in his changed appearance. He grimaced and prodded at the double chin and the fat cheeks which were hanging over the collar of his miraculously extended shirt. Quickly he opened the topmost button.   
  
Harry had to press a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from bursting out with laughter when Snape clumsily climbed out of the car.   
  
"Stay in the car, Potter." Snape shot him a last furious glance. Then he slammed the door shut with much more force than necessary.   
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_**A/N:** It always takes me a long time to update. It's not because a lack of ideas or a writer's block, it's more a lack of time. I'm happy to send you an e-mail when I update. Just leave your address with your review._   
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_Thank you for your support, Warlady, fairychild713, Lady Foxfire, star*, katyosha, Wormtail's worst enemy (nice pen name!), Elven-Lady-Elioclya, Lady NorthernLion, gypsy princess, Lady Laura.___

_**Deity:** I do my best to keep everyone in character. But I'm not sure if I can keep that up when the story progresses._   
_**Tegan:** We actually don't see much Snape-Sirius interaction in the books. But this is what I believe it would be like. Snape, who is physically inferior, provoking Sirius with words until he bodily strikes back. BTW, everyone go and read Tegan's story Dark Land, it's deep and dark and definitely thought provoking._   
_**Dark Fairy**: You 'want Harry and Snape to be all nice and stuff'? Where would be the fun in that? But don't worry, I will force them to be at least civil to each other. _; )   
_**elcee:** That's surely the strangest compliment my fic ever got. Well, thank you, I suppose._   
**_Zardiphillian Beryllix (author of You'll Never be Alone, one of the best Snape/ Harry fics currently at ff.net.)_**_: Right, Snape wants to help Harry, but he would rather bite his tongue off then admit it. We'll see who will end up needing whose help._   
_**Jaws**: Thanks for your constant reviewing. I must admit I quite enjoyed to push Harry into that emotional abyss after his moment of happiness._   
_**caius julius:** I guess real Sirius fans would disagree with you about Sirius being Sirius in the last part. Couldn't resist to put the Lineker quote at the beginning of chapter 5._   
_**Sasina:** I'm not Sirius' biggest fan, but I'm sure he would love to have an opportunity to punch Snape._   
_**Princess Kattera**: As the fic goes on Snape will be happy if every obstacle would be so easily solved as Sirius appearance._   
_**Artemis fire mage of Golin**: Huh?_   
_**n Snape**: Don't be sorry for Snape. He might be physically inferior to Sirius, but it doesn't mean he is losing every fight he picks._   
_**LegacyLad**y: You made me very happy by sending me that mail during the period when ff.net wasn't accepting reviews._   
_**M.LeCroix**: I wouldn't say I depict Snape's day-to-day life. Both he and Harry are in a very unusual situation here. For Snape as a smoker- I used that in another fic (Fortuna's Bitter Smile) a long while ago, and I found it fitted his personality. The idea is straight from the HP books themselves. Snape's teeth are a couple of times described as yellowish (something you get from excessive coffee, tea or tobacco abuse) and in GoF, Ch.18 'Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy'. Plus he doesn't strike me as someone who is overly concerned about cancer risks etc. He is much more likely to die of stomach ulcer or a stray Avada Kedavra anyway._   
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	7. Misery Likes Company

**_Disclaimer_**   
_Mrs. Rowling owns the world of Harry Potter. I don't. I only borrow some of her characters to play around with them._   
_The VW Jetta still belongs to the Volkswagen AG and Sainsbury's belongs to Sainsbury's, I guess. Viktor Schnitter is mine._   
  


**_Summary:_**   
_So far Snape has picked up Harry from Mrs. Figg to take him to Hogwarts. In London they learn that there was an attack on the Dursleys. After a heated run-in with Sirius Snape, in a Polyjuice disguise, goes into Diagon Alley to investigate what has happened._   
  


**Not beta-read yet. Sorry for all mistakes.**   
  
  


**Unfamiliar Roads**   
**by Clio**   


**Chapter 7- Misery Likes Company**

In the car's mirror Harry watched Snape vanishing into the shadows of the small alley that lead to the back door of Slug & Jigger's Apothecary, and then he was alone. Some cars passed, but only few Muggles were walking in the street.   


Harry stared out of the window and tried to remember in which part of London Diagon Alley was. The most times when had been here he was much too excited to read street signs or look for landmarks.   


Although Little Whinging was not that far away, he had been to London only on a few occasions, mostly to go to King's Cross where the Hogwarts Express left, and once, in his last year of elementary school, they had been on a field trip to the Tower of London. His knowledge of the town was limited, but he was quite sure that the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Ally were not in the City or in Westminster. He also faintly remembered that when he had lodged in the Leaky Cauldron three years ago he had heard the Muggle traffic on Charing Cross Road. So his best guess was that they were somewhere in Soho right now.   
  
  


More than half an hour later Harry was almost falling asleep from boredom. Absentmindedly he rubbed his itching scar when a movement in the alley Snape had disappeared in caught his eye. Two men stepped into the sunlit street. They were dressed in Muggle clothes, but some instinct told Harry immediately they were wizards.   


Both men were middle-aged. One was tall and had receding brown hair, his face looked pockmarked. The other was smaller and a bit chubby. Harry slid down in the passenger seat until he was positive that they couldn't see his head through the car's windows anymore. With a wildly thumping heart he watched the two men standing in front of the alley for a while and scan the street.   


The taller man said something, and both moved towards the car parked closest to the entrance of the alley. The plump man moved his forearm along the side of the car and over the boot. Harry could not see exactly what he was doing. 

The other man peeked through the windows into the car. He pulled himself up and looked into Harry's direction before he moved on to the next vehicle in the line of parked cars. Harry slid deeper in his seat. The eyes of the man were briefly skimming over Mrs. Figg's car, and Harry could see that they were of a strange color, an unnatural and unsettling silver.   


Harry tried to control his breathing. The men were still a good 100 yards away, but they were slowly making their way in his direction. Their curious unsuspicious manner suggested clearly that they looking for something. 

Harry again lifted his head a bit to look at them. The plump man, whose hand was adorned with several rings moved his forearm in a strange angle over the boot of yet another car. He must have hidden a wand in his sleeve, Harry realized with a start. If those men were scanning the cars with a wand, they were looking for something magical. Harry's first reflex was to throw his Invisibility Cloak over himself and hide between the seats of the car. He dismissed the thought as quickly as it had shot through his head. Hiding under an Invisibility Cloak surely was a silly idea, if those men were indeed wizards looking for traces of magic. Besides the cloak was in the car's boot, together with Harry's school supplies and a bag with potions bottles Snape had picked up in the flat. Harry swallowed. If all these items gave away detectable magic signs, the car stood out like a magical beacon among the Muggle cars around it. _He was in a trap_. It was only a matter of time until the two men would notice the old Volkswagen Jetta.   


_Why were they searching the street in the first place? Had Snape run into some kind of a trap in Diagon Alley or set off some unknown alarm with his presence? Maybe he was already captured by Death Eaters and they knew Harry was somewhere out here._ Harry was worried, but he would take care of Snape later. Right now he had to get out of the car if he didn't want to be discovered.   


The men were still about 70 yards away. Carefully Harry opened the door at the driver's side of the car, which was facing to the middle of the street, away from the men on the sidewalk. Silently he prayed that they were preoccupied with their task and slipped through the narrow cleft he had dared to open.   


In a crouched position he hurried along the other parked cars away from the men. When he reached the last car in the line he went around its front and sprinted over the sidewalk into a gateway, that conveniently opened there. He dashed over a backyard full of dustbins and clothes-lines to a wooden door which he hoped would lead him to the next street. He quickly glanced over his shoulder before he opened it. He was not followed. Maybe the men had not noticed his escape from the car.   


The door indeed opened to a dark passage that led him to the next street. There Harry stopped for a moment to gain some breath. He thought he recognized the busy street he was standing in as Charing Cross Road, but he was not quite sure. It would probably be the best if he tried to find the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, or at least the alley which held the other entrance to Diagon Alley Snape had talked about. Once in Diagon Alley he would have to locate Snape, but that was something Harry would concern himself with later. For now he followed the street in what he hoped was the direction to the Leaky Cauldron.   


He didn't find the wizard pub, but he soon reached a narrow side street. Could this be the other end of the alley Snape had gone into? Although all his instincts screamed not to wander into unknown dark streets, Harry decided to give it a try and walked into the dim lane.   


Somehow he was not surprised when he quickly found the alley looking very different from the one Snape had disappeared in. This street was lined by brick walls on both sides, while Harry could remember the alley Snape went in had gray stone houses on one side. He couldn't see any entrances and doors. Not even windows. Still Harry continued to walk down the alley in the hope that it would at least lead him back to the street he had come from.   


When he reached the next street Harry pressed his body against the brick wall and inched towards the corner. Carefully he peeked around. Really, there was Mrs. Figg's old Jetta parked further down the road to his left, and he also could see the lane that supposedly held the entrance to Diagon Alley he was looking for. Inwardly Harry cursed the property of magical places to be unplotable and seemingly unreachable if you didn't exactly know where to look for them. He was sure that he was virtually circling round Diagon Alley the whole time.   


The two men had disappeared. Harry could only see a Muggle pass by on a bike. Relieved he turned around and scanned the alley to make sure they were not somewhere behind him. A little further down he could see a woman in a short skirt, who was in the process of donning bright pink lipstick. Harry stared at her, his pulse picking up speed again. He couldn't recall her being there on his way down the street. How could he possibly have overlooked her?   


The woman seemed to have noticed his stares; she packed away her pocket mirror and looked directly at him. "Do you like what you see, young man?" 

"Huh? Oh, sorry, I don't know." 

The woman approached Harry and ran a hand over her thigh. "You don't know?"   


Harry was at loss. _Where had the woman come from? Was she an illusion, a distraction created by dark magic? Had he run headlong into some kind of trap?_ Fear started to tingle up his spine. Nervously he looked around. Nobody in sight. He licked his dry lips.   


"Um, I guess you are beautiful." He finally said. 

The woman giggled. Harry felt his face getting hot. 

"What a polite lad you are." She winked at him. "And? Are you interested?" 

Harry blinked in confusion. "Interested? In what? I ..." 

A heavy hand fell onto his shoulder and he froze. "Is he molesting you, madam?" an unfamiliar hoarse voice said from behind.   


Harry's knees turned to rubber. He forced himself to slowly turn around and look at the stranger. A sturdy old man was standing behind him. Quickly he turned to the woman again. _They had caught him!_ His heart began to thump loudly.   


"Little shy darling? No." The woman smiled merrily, which made the thick make-up on her cheeks peel off in small flakes.   


The man grunted in response. In his mind Harry desperately debated whether he should try to somehow communicate his distress to the woman or if he simply should attempt to run for it.   


He heard the rustle of clothes behind him. Something smelled awfully burned and then a voice very close to his ear said: "What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to stay in the goddamn car?" In his panic it took Harry a moment to recognize the man behind him as Snape in his Polyjuice disguise.   


He felt Snape move his hand from his shoulder to his back. In addition to the pressure of Snape's fingers Harry noted something hard digging in between his shoulder blades. Presumably a wand tip.   


"Let's go back!"   


The wand poked into his spine. _Snape had no bloody right to point his wand at him!_ After a few paces away from the still grinning woman Harry made a side-step to escape the wand tip. He had not fully completed the move when Snape's hand shot up and snatched his ear. 

"This way, Potter!" 

"Ow! You are hurting me!" 

"I know." Snape drawled in his unfamiliar hoarse voice and kept dragging Harry physically along with him. "Didn't I tell you to stay put in the car? Do you think I want to play hide-and-seek with you in here London?" He hissed under his breath. 

"There where two men, and they were searching for something. I don't ..." 

Snape suddenly halted and dropped his hand. "Two men?" he interrupted Harry. "Two? Are you sure?" 

Harry nodded vehemently. 

"Describe them!" 

"One was sturdy and wearing a lot of jewelry. He was scanning the parked cars with a wand." 

"Mulciber" Snape murmured. 

"The other was tall and balding and something was strange about his eyes and his face."   


Snape seemed to be lost in thought. Harry studied his Polyjuice altered face. The frown that played over the features seemed to be alien on the merry face. The man who - willingly or not - had donated his hair was obviously not a thinker.   
Above Snape's right ear the hair looked singed, as if he had recently stood to close to a flame.   


He turned to Harry again. "Those eyes were strange, you say. Like two of Professor Moody's magical eyeballs?" 

Harry shrugged. "Could be. He was very far away, though." 

Snape nodded slowly. "Erlkoenig." 

"Huh?" 

"His real name is Viktor Schnitter. Must still be around here somewhere." Snape said pensively. "We have to get out of here. Quickly."   


He looked anxious, but Harry couldn't tell if this was Snape's genuine expression or if it was an illusion created by the unfamiliar Polyjuice face.   


When they reached the car and Snape unlocked the passenger's door Harry's gaze fell on a heap of garbage, that piled around two overflowing dustbins. He gasped. From behind the garbage a hand was poking out. A human hand, which had a ring on each finger and looked decidedly dead.   


"Get into the car, Potter."   


When Harry didn't respond Snape turned around to him. His gaze followed Harry's until it came to rest on the hand behind the garbage. To Harry's utter horror he strode forward and kicked vigorously against the wrist.   


The arm didn't move. Snape sighed, and with the tip of his boot he pushed a litter bag against the hand to hide it from view.   


"Now, get into the car already." Snape's voice, although not his own, was dangerously smooth and low.   


Harry only gaped at him and tried to sort out his thoughts. There was a body behind the dustbins, and judging by the jewelry on his hand and Snape's reaction it was the man who had scanned the cars with his wand. The one Snape had called Mulciber. He must have confronted Snape here by the car when he had returned from Diagon Alley. That would explain Snape's singed hair. A curse must have brushed him.   


"You dueled!" Harry blurted out. Snape only narrowed his eyes and looked at him coldly. Harry pointed towards the dustbins. "That's Mulciber, right?" 

Snape nodded. "Two points to Gryffindor. Now get in there," he hissed and made a threatening step towards him.   


Harry obeyed. He didn't like to admit it, but he felt more than a little uneasy.   
  
  
  


When Snape had finally pulled the car into the street, Harry worked up the courage to ask: "Did you kill him?" 

"Pardon?" 

"Did you kill that man? Mulciber?" Harry demanded from Snape, who stepped onto the break. 

"Mind what you are saying, Potter!" He menacingly stared at Harry, who stubbornly held his gaze. Surprisingly Snape looked away first. 

"No," the car picked up speed again, "of course not." 

Harry felt oddly relieved. 

" Petrified him. Felix Mulciber never was quick with his wand." 

Somehow Harry had the strong impression that Snape and Mulciber had known each other quite well. "Nice friends you have," he remarked but Snape didn't respond. 

"Where are we going?" 

Snape glanced quickly at Harry, than he mumbled irritably "I don't now."   


Harry looked up in alarm. Snape was focussing his attention to the traffic in front of him, but Harry could sense something wasn't quite right. It was highly uncharacteristic for his haughty Potions teacher to admit he didn't have a plan.   
  
  
  
  


After fifteen minutes of apparently aimless driving through the streets of London, Snape steered the car into the spacious parking lot of a Sainsbury's supermarket.   


"Why are we stopping here?" Harry asked. 

Snape turned towards him. His Polyjuiced face radiated anger. "Just give me a moment to think, will you!" he spat.   


Harry shrunk back. Snape's gaze lingered on him for a bit, and Harry thought saw the expression on the unfamiliar Polyjuice face change from anger to something akin to weariness before he turned his attention back to the dashboard. Snape stopped the engine, lowered the window a bit and lit a cigarette.   


He had taken a few pulls when he suddenly pressed his hand to the side of his face. Harry saw that the Polyjuice Potion was wearing off. Snape's face twitched oddly and his whole body shook for a second or two, and then he had changed back from an old man into, well, Snape.   


To Harry's relief the Muggles in the distance were still busy storing away their groceries. None of them had noticed the magical transformation in the car.   


Harry watched Snape gingerly touch his nose and his cheekbone. He brought up his other hand, which was still holding the cigarette, and rubbed his face with both hands. When he took them away Harry saw that the weariness he had detected in the Polyjuiced face was also clearly visible in Snape's own features.   
  
  
  


Slowly he finished his cigarette. After he had tossed the butt out of the window Snape finally addressed Harry. "The news from Hogwarts are rather disturbing." 

Harry's eyes widened. "What happened?" 

"Nothing, according to the Ministry." Snape held up a hand to quell Harry's questions. "I talked to Mundungus Fletcher. He is an old friend of Albus, and quite a reliable source. He told me about the events in Hogwarts." 

"Did they attack the school?" Harry asked hurriedly. 

"No. The Death Eaters are not outright attacking Hogwarts or Hogsmeade as Albus has feared. They have taken to a strategy of pinpricks. _Things_ happen in Hogsmeade - a house collapses, a fire breaks out, the river Hog floods the cellars and gardens. There even was an Acromantula from the Forbidden Forest turning up in the village. It killed some people before Hagrid arrived from the castle and brought it down." 

Snape watched Harry closely for a reaction before he continued. 

"All these accidents seem to be unconnected. Mundungus says that Albus doesn't believe in a mere coincidence. After some people have disappeared without a trace Albus has opened the gates of Hogwarts for all citizens of Hogsmeade who seek refuge. The Ministry apparently refuses to send Aurors or Hitwizards to Hogsmeade to investigate the incidents." 

Harry opened his mouth, but Snape continued before he had a chance to say anything.   
"I don't know if the Ministry fails to see the gravity of the situation or if they don't act because they want to play down the whole thing. Had there been an open Death Eater attack, Hogsmeade would be swarming with Aurors. But as the things are now the Dark Lord seems to act out a very clever plan. He can spread fear and destruction in Hogsmeade and keep the staff of Hogwarts busy without a single Hitwizard showing up. Of course Albus feels obliged to help solving the problems in the village. That keeps him distracted from anything else that goes on. Very clever indeed." 

Harry cleared his throat. "We will go to Hogwarts and help, won't we?" 

"Ah, always the Gryffindor, aren't you!" Snape sneered at him, but the expression didn't hold its usual venom. "We won't do such a foolish thing. At least not until the situation in Hogsmeade is clear. If Albus indeed allows people from the village in the castle, he must have lowered the protection wards, maybe even the Anti-Apparition field is down. Hogwarts probably is not a very safe place now." 

"But maybe they need help!" 

"Don't you understand Potter? With all those people in the castle you don't know whom you can trust. Any of them could sell you out to the Dark Lord." 

"What do you mean, _sell me out_?" 

"Voldemort wants you. He has set a price on your head, Potter." Snape's hand shot up and he pressed two fingers against Harry's forehead. " Remember, not every wizard is as well off as you. Murders have been committed for lesser sums."   


Harry jerked his head away. The skin on his forehead crawled where Snape's cold fingers had touched him. He had to fight the urge to rub the spot.   


Snape smiled. Harry felt queasy all of a sudden. _Would Snape possibly deliver him to Voldemort for money or to worm his way back into the good graces of his old master?_   


Snape's smile faltered. "The same is true for me, though. The Dark Lord wants to see me dead, too."   


There was a moment of silence, then Snape said: "It also would put Albus in a very precarious situation if he granted me access to Hogwarts." 

The last comment perked Harry's interest. "A precarious situation? How?"   


Snape sighed and leaned back against the headrest. He turned his head until he looked Harry directly into the eye. "The Hitwizards are looking for me as the Dursleys' murderer." 

Harry gasped. "But that's not true!" 

Snape grimaced. "Truth is in the eye of the beholder, Potter. Voldemort has his agents in the Ministry, among the Aurors, anywhere. I guess it didn't take much to convince them to suspect me. After all I was indeed seen in Little Whinging the days before the attack. And Mundungus tells me they have even dug up my robes in Arabella's house as discriminating evidence." 

"But I know it wasn't you! We could go straight into the Auror post in Diagon Alley and I could testify for you. I can tell them you were with me all the time." 

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Like you told everyone Pettigrew was alive in your third year at Hogwarts and that Voldemort had come back in your fourth year?" 

"Well, ..." 

"Touching as this may be, Potter, there are things even the Boy-who-lived can't change."   


"What are we going to do now?" Harry asked quietly. 

"I will have to stay away from the Wizard world until it is safe to return to Hogwarts. I have already owled Albus from Diagon Alley that we will leave London."   


Harry thought about how a mere couple of hours ago he had refused to go with Sirius because his godfather was still wanted by Muggle and Wizard authorities. And now Snape was in almost the same situation - at least until Albus Dumbledore could pull some strings and clarify the situation.   
It dawned Harry that maybe he had made the wrong decision in the morning. At least it would have been fun to be on the run with Sirius. With Snape it probably would be a horrible experience. 

On the other hand no-one forced him to stay with Snape. Harry himself had no reason to avoid the wizarding world entirely. Maybe he could go to the Weasleys? They surely wouldn't turn him away when he showed up at their doorstep. But then he would place them in great danger. To turn to the Grangers for help was out of question. As Muggles they would be easy prey for the Death Eaters. And if Snape was right about the reward Voldemort would pay for his head, he couldn't even cross Diagon Alley without putting himself in danger.   
  


Snape seemed to guess his thoughts. He sighed and said: "I'm not happy about all this either, but after all I'm your teacher, even if school is not in session. I feel obliged to keep an eye on you." Snape looked intensely at Harry. " I would strongly advice you to stay close to me until Hogwarts is safe again. Which is hopefully soon."   


Harry stared back at Snape. All the thoughts rushing through his head in these seconds came down to one - _Dumbledore trusts him._ To his own surprise he nodded slowly. He felt like sealing a pact with the devil.   


In an afterthought he stuck out his hand. "Promise you don't take away points from Gryffindor during that time?" It was a silly thing to ask. Harry was very aware of that, but somehow it seemed to be the only way he could think of to ask Snape for some kind of a temporary truce.   


Snape looked down at Harry's hand. With a sardonic grin he shook it. The oddness of the whole situation struck Harry. Here he was in a Muggle car in front of a Muggle supermarket shaking hands with Snape, who seemed to find this highly amusing. Snape's smirk unnerved him. _Had there been a catch in his proposal?_ Quickly Harry withdrew his hand and cleared his throat.   


"Why do we have to leave London?" 

"The police in Little Whinging believes the explosion at the Dursleys was an accident, but it is very likely that there still will be inquiries. They might look for both of us." 

Harry remembered Sirius mentioning something along those lines. 

"But since no crime was committed they will hopefully not launch a nationwide search. It should be sufficient if we put some more distance between ourselves and Surrey."   


Harry nodded. It sounded reasonable. He only wondered how Snape knew so much about the Muggle police. It was very unlikely that he had seen mystery show on TV. Suddenly Harry remembered something he had seen in said shows. "If we stay in a hotel, we will have to show some ID. The Muggle police could track us easily that way." 

Snape shrugged, "Then we won't stay in hotels."   


Harry waited for Snape to elaborate, but he only stared at the steering wheel lost in thought. Harry had the feeling that he hadn't told him everything yet. 

"There is more, isn't it?" He asked. 

Snape lifted his gaze from his hands on the wheel and watched the entrance of Sainsbury's with hooded eyes. "Arabella Figg is dead." He said flatly. 

"No." 

"Yes. She died alongside your poor excuse of a family." It came out as an accusation. Snape's voice sounded strained. "She tried to protect them when the Death Eaters came."   


Harry suddenly remembered the headline in the Muggle paper yesterday night - _'Four dead in Little Whinging gas explosion'_. He simply had not realized that it had said four, not three. _But how could Mrs. Figg be dead?_ Two days ago he had sat at her table, even now he was sitting in her car. _'Have an eye on the Dursleys'_ Dumbledore had told her when Harry had overheard their floo conversation. Another person who had died because of Voldemort's hate for him.   


Harry turned to see Snape staring out of the window, his lips pressed into a tight line.   


"Did you know Mrs. Figg well, Professor?"   


Snape nodded and continued watching the Muggles at the parking lot. If Harry hadn't known for sure that Snape was a heartless bastard he would have thought that the death of Arabella Figg affected him - more than all the other news he had learnt in Diagon Alley.   


Harry scratched his head. "She used to baby-sit me when I was small, but I know very little about her," he mused. " I think she really likes animals. She fed what must have been stray cats from all over England. Every day." 

"Yes, I know." Snape didn't turn his gaze away from the Muggles in the parking lot. "She fed all strays, who everyone else would have chased away from their grounds, and even tended their injuries and illnesses when necessary. Never asked questions."   


Harry had the distinct impression that Snape was not talking about cats. He didn't quite know what to say. Trying to avoid to stare at Snape, his gaze fell upon the paper bag which was stashed away in the door of the car. Carefully he pulled it out and opened it. It was the bag with cookies Mrs. Figg had supplied them with. Harry's throat constricted painfully. Nevertheless he took a cookie and offered the bag to Snape.   


At first Snape glared irritably at Harry when he held the bag into his line of vision, but then he took a chocolate cookie.   


"Was Mrs. Figg part of the Order of the Phoenix?" asked Harry. 

Snape nodded. "She was a contact person, of sorts." 

" Really? What kind of contacts?" 

"She gathered information from the, let's say, shadier elements. People contacted her when they wanted to bring something to Dumbledore's attention, for example. Anonymous."   
  


The conversation ceased for a while. Harry pondered Mrs. Figg's role in the Order and how this fit into the picture of a nice old lady with too many cats he had in his mind.   


"Err, Professor, is that how you met Mrs. Figg - as a contact person?" 

"Yes." 

Harry waited patiently if Snape would say more. This was after all quite a personal question. His patience was rewarded. 

"She was the first person I asked for..." Snape cleared his throat. " ... for assistance when I realized that I had made some rather foolish choices." 

"You got in touch with Mrs. Figg?" Harry was surprised. He fumbled a bit for the right words, afraid that Snape would become angry again. "I always thought ... I imagined you went to Dumbledore when - you know - when you wanted to switch sides." He almost whispered the last words. 

"It's _Professor_ Dumbledore for you." Snape sneered. "You can't look beyond your Gryffindor horizon, can you, Potter?" 

Harry bit his lip. He wouldn't raise to Snape's bait. 

"You don't simply march onto Hogwarts grounds and into the office of the Headmaster when you are a Death Eater. He would have killed me on the spot, and rightly so."   


Harry again scratched his head. He had never regarded Dumbledore as someone other than a gentle, wise and sometimes a bit eccentric person.   


"Arabella trusted me. We had had some ... business before. It took her quite some time to convince Albus that I truly wanted to switch sides, as you put it." 

" The Headmaster didn't believe you?" Harry's eyes grew wide. A couple of times he had tried to figure out how Snape had become Dumbledore's spy. This was an option he had not imagined. 

"Of course not. It took Arabella half a year to convince him to meet with me."   


Harry swallowed. He would ask Snape the question foremost in his mind, now or never. "Um, ... but, why does Prof. Dumbledore trust you so much today then?" 

"That, Potter, is a matter between the Headmaster and myself." 

Harry let out a sigh of frustration. "Professor Dumbledore has said the very same when I asked him." 

Snape's mouth quirked and slowly melted into a thin-lipped smile. "Did he say so, indeed."   


Harry nodded. Snape continued to smile, but his eyes regarded Harry with a very calculating look. Then he turned away and started the car.   


"Right, Potter. Before we leave London we should drive by the flat and check, if maybe Arthur or Albus have returned my owls."   
  
  
  


Harry was still pondering the conversation he just had had with Snape, when they pulled into the street the flat was in. He was jerked back into realty abruptly. 

The road before them was blocked by fire trucks and ambulances. Many people with and without uniforms were busily running around. 

Snape stopped the car. Behind the fire engines Harry could see a house burning. It was the big tenement house the Muggle flat they had used was in. Bright orange flames were blazing from the roof and almost all windows above the ground floor. Harry quickly glanced at Snape, only to see him stare unbelievingly at the burning house.   


A police officer stepped to the side of the car and motioned at Snape to lower the window. 

"Sir, you can't drive through here. Please turn around." 

Snape blinked confusedly. 

"Unless ... Do you live here?" 

Quickly Snape had himself under control again. "No. No, I don't live here," he said hastily. "We merely wanted to visit someone. Further down the street." He made a vague gesture with his hand. "It's not important." 

The officer nodded. " Then I must ask you to clear the road."   


Snape did as he was told. He turned the car and slowly drove away from the scene. Harry twisted in his seat to have better look at the house. He wondered if the nosy neighbor was alright.   


"To your left, Potter," whispered Snape, who was watching the commotion in front of the house in the mirror.   


Harry looked at the houses on the opposite side of the street. There, on an immaculate white wall, a graffiti was sprayed in fluorescent green paint for wizards and Muggles alike to see. It was an ugly grinning skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_**A/N**: Viktor Schnitter is not named after Victor Krum. He is named Viktor for a reason, thought, but I don't want to get into that right now. 'Schnitter' means 'reaper', as in Grim Reaper. He will reappear later. _:) 

_I'm sorry about Mrs. Figg. She has really grown on me, but she was doomed to death from the very beginning. I fear I'm guilty of a little bit of cheesyness when Snape about her._   
  
  


_Currently I'm without a beta-reader. I want to apologize for all mistakes, strange sounding sentences and all not-quite-fitting vocabulary. Blame them on the Microsoft Word Thesaurus, my hopeless out of date Langenscheidt dictionary and my insecurities at writing in a language that is not my native one._

**_I'm a slow writer, but I plan to continue this story, if my time allows. If you leave your email with your review I will notify you when the next chapter comes out._**   


_BTW, **I really desperately need a beta-reader!**!! Isn't there anyone out there who thinks he/she could do that job? It doesn't take much – my updates are rare, and if you are American or English, you sure have a better feeling for your language better than I do._   
  
  


_Thanks for all your great reviews!_

**_Deity, Lady Laura, SnapesMistress7, aniwda, jaws, kate,_**

_**fabnikki:** Well, pulling Snape and Harry out of their usual environment is the idea of this fic. I think it is their only chance of dismissing their usual behavior as well._

_**faerychild713**: I know, updates are rare. Sorry. If you leave me your email address in your review I can send word to you when I have a new chapter ready._   


_**Blizzard:** I'm sorry, there won't be more of Mrs. Figg. She was never meant to be have a big role in the story, but then I couldn't stop writing. I hope we will see her in Book 5._

_**Glasen Dauthi, bluebird161221**: My native language is German, but since I'm a potion researcher like dear Severus I have to use English on a daily base. A lot of credit also has to go to the proofreading function of "Word" and to the great beta-readers, who taught me more about writing-style than most of my school teachers._

_**Boromir: **Thanks for your review for my waaay old story East of Eden. You seem to be the only one who has ever guessed where Ddore took Snape before his trial._

_**Legacy Lady:** Well, thanks for your very enthusiastic review. It makes me blush every time I read it. I'm very happy to hear that you seem to get the same mental images about proper Snape/Harry behavior from the books as I do. I enjoy writing their dialogues._

_**googleduckie**: Indeed things can easily spin out of control, even if you are a wizard. And this is just the beginning. ; )_

_**Moonchild**: I'm properly ashamed for not updating often enough. I hope my characters are believable, but sometimes I seriously doubt it and I take out big parts of already written dialogue._

_**Tegan**: Sometimes I'm a little insecure about Harry's character. After all he is 16 in my story, and teenagers are a bit hard to predict in their behavior._

_**Zardiphillian Beryllix:** Of course Snape would look after Harry. No way he would let him wander around in London on his own._

_**Azalais Malfoy:** High praise, coming from Caesar. Thank you. I wish I would have the writing abilities to create such an intriguing parallel universe as you do in your stories._

_**Warlady: **I try do my best with Snape's character, which I have adopted as my alter ego. ; ) I'm glad you see him the same way as I do. Thanks for your heartwarming review._

_**Cheshire:** I'm not sure if Harry really knows himself why he chose Snape over Sirius. Maybe because the author prefers Snape and Harry stories over Sirius and Harry stories?_   



	8. Welcome to Sorrel Lake

**_Disclaimer_**   
_Mrs. Rowling owns the world of Harry Potter. I don't. I only play with some of her characters. Richard Kimble and Thomas Crown are borrowed from the respective movie and TV show. Lake Sorrel Campground and all its inhabitants are mine._   
  
  


_It's been a while. Here is a summary of what happened until now._

_**Summary: **Towards the end of his summer holidays between his 5th and 6th year Harry is scheduled to spent some time at the Burrow. At Mrs. Figg's he is confronted with a change of plans -Voldemort is stirring. Snape, who has been found out as a traitor among the Death Eaters, comes to take Harry to Hogwarts. In London they learn that there was an attack on the Dursleys almost immediately after they left Little Whinging. All three Dursleys and Mrs. Figg are dead. The Aurors look for Snape as their murderer. Due to Voldemort's actions Hogwarts is no longer a safe haven during the summer holidays. Thus forced to stay out of the Wizarding World, Snape and Harry decide to hide in the Muggle world until the new term begins. The Death Eaters remain at their heels. They find and destroy Snape and Harry's hide-out in Muggle London ._   
  
  
  
  
  


**Unfamiliar Roads**   
**by Clio**   


**Chapter 8 -Welcome to Sorrel Lake**

Harry's mind was numb. He couldn't think of anything but the burning house and the green Dark Mark at the wall. Barely noticing where they were going he only was pulled back into realty when Snape stopped the car in front of a big shopping center at the outskirts of London. Harry looked around in wonder. _What did Snape want here?_ His question was answered when Snape dragged him into a shop for outdoor apparel, where he asked for a tent. After a moment of surprise Harry figured that this had to be Snape's plan to hide in the Muggle world and at the same time making it as hard as possible for both Muggle and Wizard authorities alike to keep track of them. 

Harry wasn't quite sure if he could agree to this plan. Camping with Snape didn't sound like something he wanted to do in his holidays. But then nothing had gone as he had desired during these last days. Since Snape hadn't asked him for his opinion he decided to keep quiet. 

Harry saw that Snape was already talking to a salesman, who obviously took no pleasure in his customer. Snape didn't allow him to praise the different tent models the store had. He quickly decided for one of the smaller tents, obviously the cheapest model as Harry could tell from the salesman's barely hidden disappointment. His face did lit up a bit though when Snape in addition chose two, thin-looking foam pads. Obviously having decided Snape was not a completely lost cause, the salesman steered him over to the sleeping bag section. Harry wandered over to listen in on their conversation. The situation was quite absurd, but held a certain entertainment value. 

Although the salesman did his best Snape didn't look as if he cared for the differences between down and fiber stuffing or if he understood the need for those overly bright colored heaps of fabric at all. 

He waved impatiently at the salesman. "No, no. I would like to pay for the other items now." 

Then he looked at Harry, who had come up to them, and in an afterthought he added: "Wait, do you have shoes for the boy? Something sturdy maybe." 

Harry looked down at his ill fitting shoes. He really wouldn't mind new footwear, but he didn't like Snape's patronizing manner. 

"Of course, Sir. We have a fine selection of hiking boots. Would you prefer a lighter model or something heavy for alpine areas? What size do you have, young man." 

"Er, 6 1/2." 

The salesman opened his mouth to talk about the shoes, but Snape cut him off with a glare and gestured towards a board with boots. 

"Excellent choice!" the man clamored, and hurried to hand Harry a pair. "Of course there are alternatives if this model is not quite fitting." He pulled out more shoes from various boards.   


Harry, in the meantime, had put on the shoes. The salesman beamed down on him. "Let them warm up a bit, and then walk around. We have a slope over there, where we can try out if your foot slips when walk up or down. It will take about 10 min for you to get a feeling for this model." He smiled insecurely at Snape, who had folded his arms and tapped impatiently the floor with his foot. 

"Potter," he hissed, "do they fit you?" 

Harry wriggled his toes and shrugged. "I guess so." 

The salesman shook his head. "He can't decide that in a rush." 

Snape's raised an eyebrow. "You heard the boy. They will do." The look which never failed to intimidate the Hogwarts students also scared the salesman into obedience. 

"Very well, sir."   
  


At the cashier desk Snape produced a bundle of bank notes from his pocket. Harry's eyes became wide when he saw the thick bundle consisted entirely of 100 £ notes. He estimated that Snape was holding more that £ 8000 in his hands. The salesman had noticed the bundle, too, and craned his neck to have a better look at it. Harry hoped that he didn't notice the odd Gringotts logo on the banderole, which featured a pile of gold coins and a dragon guarding them. Carelessly Snape pulled out a few notes and placed them on the desk. He didn't seem to notice the strange look the salesman gave him, when he checked the notes under a UV lamp.   
  
  
  


Out in the car Harry asked: "Do you want to go camping?" 

Snape started the car and sneered at Harry. "I thought that was obvious. Are we having objections, Mr. Potter?" 

Harry could think of a thousand objections, beginning with '_I want to go to Hogwarts_' and ending with '_I don't want to sleep in the same room even less in the same tent as you_'. But he couldn't come up with a better idea right now, and since neither Hogwarts nor the Magical world nor Muggle hotels were an option, he said nothing. And somehow it all didn't matter anymore. He shrugged. 

Snape seemed to be satisfied.   
  
  
  


They drove the whole afternoon. Harry didn't care where they were going. He stared at the countryside, trying to prevent his thoughts from circling around Mrs. Figg, the Dursleys and the blazing apartment house. But no matter how hard he concentrated on the cows, fields and villages, he couldn't get rid of the image of the ugly green skull that seemed to be burned into his retinas. He idly wondered if there had been a Dark Mark over number 4 Privet Drive, too. Surely Petunia wouldn't have liked how it drew the curiosity of the neighbors. 

He didn't try to talk to Snape, who himself seemed to be deep in thought.   
  


In the early evening Snape got off from the highway and took smaller streets through the countryside. Soon they passed a sign advertising a campground, but Snape kept on driving. At a second sign, promoting the Sorrel Lake campground, he turned into a gravel road. 

Harry couldn't say what made this campground more acceptable than the first. Curiously he tried to spot it down the road. He had only been too a magical campground with the Weasleys at the Quidditch World cup, and he wondered in what ways a Muggle campground would be different from a magical one.   


At a small house with a skewed sign saying 'Welcome to Sorrel Lake Campground' Snape stopped the car and got out. He waved at Harry, to follow him. As soon as they stepped into the dim lit office a dog came out from behind the counter and started to bark at them. 

"Down, Percy. They're customers!" 

A huge red-faced man stood up behind the counter. The dog plopped down on his belly obediently, but continued to growl. Harry couldn't suppress a chuckle about Percy, who was so obviously torn between barking at the strangers and obeying his master. 

"What can I do for you?" the man asked. He was sweating profusely. 

"We are looking for a place to stay. Preferably ... " Snape said, but was cut off by the big man. 

"Hook up for water and electricity?" 

"I believe I can't quite follow you." 

"Trailer or tent? That your car?" The man grunted and leaned over the counter to look around Snape at their car. Snape took a step back. With amusement Harry watched how the dog took advantage of his distracted master and crawled a few inches closer to Snape's heels. 

"A tent then. You won't need electricity. That'll be pitch B15. It's all the way down the road. Turn right behind the washrooms. These are our rates." The man gestured towards a barely readable sign in a dark corner. "We can do the formal things in the morning. My wife is not here, she does the finances. I'll just need your name tonight." 

Snape glanced nervously at the dog, who had inched closer again. "Smith. Um. Jonathan Smith." 

"And is that your son, Mr. Smith?" 

"Er, yes. Yes." 

Snape's brief hesitation was enough to catch the attention of the campground owner. He cast a strange look at Harry, who was blushing, and then narrowed his eyes at Snape suspiciously.   
"Really? You must know, we are a family campground. We don't want those people out here, you know. Twisted fellows from the city, who do you-know-what with children." 

Snape took a deep breath. "How dare you imply, that I, ... that I ... . How dare you!" 

The dog pulled back his muzzles and growled.The man's eyes shifted to Harry. "Is he your father, boy?"   


Harry swallowed. He couldn't possibly declare that Snape of all people was his father. _He just couldn't_. From the corner of his eye he could see Snape tensing, his hand slowly went to the sleeve where Harry knew he kept his wand. Harry's stomach twisted itself into knots. He swallowed again to fight the feeling of nausea. If he didn't answer soon they were in serious trouble. It took all of his willpower to open his mouth. 

"Yes, o-of course." 

The man looked back and forth between Harry and Snape, who stiffly stood next to each other. Then he slowly nodded. "Well, I think I can see some family semblance here. Sorry, but you can't be careful enough nowadays. If you knew what kind of people sometimes show up here. Bloody perverts." 

Snape fixed the man with his coldest stare. The campground owner started to fidget. 

"Ahem, well, you will have to fill out this slip, but you can take your time and bring it back tomorrow. We also sell fishing licenses, hiking maps and milk here in the mornings. If you need anything like ..." 

Snape cut him off. "Pitch B15, right?"   
  
  


Back in the car Snape hit the wheel with his fist. "This blasted Muggle! Who does he think he is talking to?" 

The tension and the sick feeling in his stomach left Harry as if somebody had switched off a light. All that was left was a strange feeling of light-headedness and euphoria. Harry started to snigger. 

"To Jonathan Smith, of course. Honestly, 'John Smith'! Couldn't you come up with something less suspicious? Like Thomas Crown or Richard Kimble maybe?" 

Snape, who didn't seem to feel as relieved as Harry, looked up angrily. "And why do you think that those names would be better suited?" 

Harry helplessly dissolved in a fit of silly laughter.   
  
  
  


Their assigned lot turned out to be a sloping stretch of dusty grass near the lake. Since neither Harry nor Snape had ever put up a tent their attempt to do so was more then pathetic. 

"No, no, no. Can't you see that's wrong , Potter!" 

Harry decided it was probably better to pull away from their poor team effort and give Snape some room to work the problem out on his own. He watched how Snape was struggling with the sheet of directions, the tarp and the ropes, and at the same time constantly cursing the campground owner and his dog, the salesman and Muggles in general. He estimated that, judging from the brick color of Snape's face, it would take two more minutes until Snape would finally lose his temper and pull out his wand to incinerate the whole tent. 

"Anything you find amusing, Mr. Potter?" Snape had noticed his glee. 

Harry tried to keep a straight face, but failed miserably." No, Professor." 

With two quick steps Snape was in front of him and dropped the poles at his feet. Just when he opened his mouth he was interrupted my a deep voice. "Tricky model that! Had one of those myself quite some time ago." 

Snape, who had doubtlessly been about to launch into one of his infamous tirades, shut his mouth with an audible click and turned around. None of them had noticed the approach of a Muggle, who extended his hand with a friendly smile. "Robert Higgins is the name. We are camping a bit over there." Since Snape didn't move and only stared at him he grabbed Snape's hand in his own beefy one and pumped it up and down. 

" Jonathan Smith." Snape said finally. 

"Ah, very well, John. Welcome to Sorrel Lake then." The Muggle clapped Snape hard on the shoulder, which made him stumble sideways bit. He glowered at the man, who didn't seem to notice Snape's hostile gaze. "You can call me Bob." 

Bob was about the same height as Snape, but was built far more athletic. His body reminded Harry of a wrestler or a hammer-thrower, who was out of shape for quite a while now. Maybe Crabbe and Goyle would look like this in a couple of years. He wore neon-pink shorts and a tricot that read 'Tottenham Hotspurs'. 

"It's your first time around here, isn't it?" 

"Yes, it is," said Harry, and since Snape had chosen to cross his arms and continue glaring at the Muggle, he added with an apologetic smile "It is actually the first time we are going camping at all." 

Bob gave him a patronizing grin before he turned back to Snape. "I heard your son call you Professor. So you are ... a scientist? Teaching at ... a university?" Snape nodded. The Muggle burst into laughter. "I bet you are. You certainly look like fellow who doesn't get out much. Always with the head up in the clouds and the feet high on the ivory tower. Am I right, John?" 

Snape smiled sourly and nodded.   


Harry breathed out relieved. If Bob took Snape for an eccentric professor, he wouldn't worry about any unusual behavior they might display during the next days. Snape, with his untidy long hair, the shabby corduroy pants and the old fashioned jacket certainly looked the part. 

Suddenly a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Harry turned around to see a big owl fly over the campground. He exchanged a brief look with Snape, who also was watching the bird.   


" What's your subject?" 

" Pardon?" Snape asked absently, gazing at the bird. 

"What field do you work in?" Bob repeated. 

Snape still seemed to be distracted by the owl, so Harry with a sudden stroke of inspiration said "Ornithology." Unfortunately Snape answered "Chemistry" at the same time. 

"What?" 

"Birds, you know." Harry offered before his brain had a chance to register that his answer would not help to clarify the situation. Snape scowled at him, while Bob looked from Harry to Snape in confusion. 

"The chemistry of birds." Snape said swiftly. "I study ... avian biochemistry. The chemistry of bird flight for example is particularly fascinating." 

"Oh, " Bob said, still looking confused, " sounds, er, interesting."   
  


Suddenly Bob hollered "Matt!" at someone behind their backs. Both Harry and Snape flinched. "That's my son Matthew," Bob said in a more civil volume and pointed at a boy with a fishing rod who stood in a frozen position a bit away from them. He turned to Harry." He should be your age. Why don't you go fishing with Matt while I and your father pitch up your tent? How does that sound." 

Harry didn't have to think twice. He nodded enthusiastically, eager to get away from Bob and Snape. Should Snape deal with the Muggle on his own! He ran to the boy before the Potion Master could object in any way.   
  
  
  


After some short introductions Harry and Matt were on their way down to the lake. 

"Do you and your dad go often on vacation together?" Harry asked Matt, whose sandy hair reminded him a bit of Seamus Finnegan. 

"My dad takes me camping every year. Says it's good for our father son bonding." 

"Where's your mom?" Harry asked curiously. 

Matt shrugged. "At home. She's looking after my baby sister. Dad says she would only disturb a men's outing." 

"Yeah. Same here." Harry said, hoping it sounded knowingly. Since he had never had a real family he didn't know what a family vacation was supposed to be like.   
  


At the lake's shore Matt and Harry sat down. The lake looked quiet and a bit boring in the evening sun. Harry couldn't imagine why anyone wanted to spend his holidays here. Matt put down his rod and made no move to prepare for fishing. Instead he turned his back to the water and faced the campground. Suddenly he jabbed Harry in the ribs. "See that girl?" 

Harry followed his pointing finger. And saw a blonde girl about their age who had just stepped out of a camper. She went towards the washrooms followed by a younger girl, who was obviously her sister. 

"She's Dutch." Matt informed Harry. "And she's hot, eh?" 

Harry nodded. The girl was tanned and had well developed breasts, but he doubted that a Dutch family would spent their holidays in a boring campground in England. Wasn't there an ocean between England and Holland? His geography knowledge was dwindling since he had stopped visiting a Muggle school. 

"You know, she has a thing for me." Matt whispered hoarsely when the girl was out of their sight. Harry looked at him incredulously. 

"No shit. I know when a woman is ready. I bet I will shag her before the end of the week." 

Harry chuckled. 

"Believe me, I'm quite an expert. It won't be my first time, you know." Matt gave Harry a shrewd look. "Have you ever ... ." 

"With a girl? Er ... no." Harry thought about how he had once kissed Lavender at a Quidditch victory party in the common room and almost touched her bra. 

"Pity. You don't know what you're missing, pal. Much better than your own handiwork." 

Harry blinked sheepishly "What?" 

Matt rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. At night ... under the sheets ..." 

"O-of course." Harry stammered. 

Matt laughed. "Why are you blushing like a girl?" 

Harry closed his eyes. He couldn't believe he had this conversation with a total stranger, a Muggle. 

"Aunt Petunia says ... she says that it makes you ... go blind." 

"You don't believe that, do you?" 

Harry shook his head. "No, of course not. It's just ... it's ... my eyes, my vision is quite poor, and I don't want to risk anything." He took a deep breath. Matt stared at him for a second. Then he fell flat on his back in the grass and began to laugh so hard tears were streaming down his cheeks.   
  
  
  


About two hours and a lot of embarrassing but comradely conversation later, Harry went back to the tent pitch. Matthew had reminded him a lot of his cousin Dudley. Not that Matt was as fat as Dudley, but he had the same air of ignorant confidence around him.   


At their camp site he found Snape sitting at a small fire in front of the perfectly build up tent, smoking. Next to him in the grass lay an almost finished whisky bottle, obviously a welcome gift from Bob. He noticed Harry's approach and turned around. "Finished playing with your new Muggle friend, Potter?" 

Harry, too tired to be appropriately needled, nodded and plopped down next to the fire in a little distance to Snape. "Where is Bob?" 

Snape snorted and said very seriously. "A while ago he finally had the sense to leave. You wouldn't believe how close he came to being transfigured into a toad or a slug. Or, come to think of it, anything that could be crushed easily and would leave an ugly, wet stain. He insisted on giving me this, though." Snape lifted the bottle towards the grinning Harry and drank a long daft from it. 

"He reminds me of my Uncle Vernon." Harry said quietly. "He is so ... loud. I wonder if Vernon and Dudley ever went camping together." 

Snape rubbed his injured shoulder, but didn't reply. Harry looked into the flames in front of him. _He didn't really know what the Dursleys did when he wasn't around._ All he know was that they went on vacation together once in a while. Maybe there Vernon too would teach his son to fish or something alike.   
However, the Dursleys would never go on a vacation again. _They were dead._ Like Mrs. Figg. Harry felt his stomach cramping. Angry he tried to keep the upwelling emotions in check. He cleared his throat. 

"Uncle Vernon wanted so much that Dudley started to work at Grunnings after school." His voice threatened to break. Again he cleared his throat, but sound he produced was a low wail. Embarrassed and not willing to cry in front of Snape he clamped his mouth shut.   


"Potter." 

Harry didn't want to look at the face of his teacher right now. Stubbornly he continued to look into the fire. 

"Potter!" 

Reluctantly Harry lifted his head. Surprisingly Snape didn't scowl or sneer at him. He was holding out the bottle of whisky to Harry. "Here. It might help your ... sore throat ... a bit." 

Gingerly Harry accepted the bottle and sipped from it. Immediately he started to cough when the liquid burned in his mouth and all the way down to his stomach. With a satisfied nod Snape took the bottle away from him. 

The irony of the situation was lost on Harry. Snape, who some counted among the greatest Potion Masters of his time, didn't seem to know a better cure for Harry's pain than strong Muggle alcohol. 

Harry's coughing ceased and a curious warmth spread in his stomach. It was the first time he drank something stronger than ale. Only last year he and Ron had sampled from a bottle of Muggle beer Dean Thomas had managed to smuggle into Hogwarts. Dudley, on the other hand, had always been bragging about how he and his friends at school got smashingly drunk at secret parties._ Dudley, who now would never graduate from Smeltings_. Aunt Petunia would never have the chance to see her Duddykins grow into a man. 

Harry had to bite his lip in order to prevent his chin from quivering. It now took all his will power to refrain from crying in front of Snape. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his breath, which again threatened to catch in his throat. But in the darkness he saw images of Aunt Petunia in the kitchen, Uncle Vernon with Dudley, Mrs. Figg feeding her cats flashing before him. He squeezed his eyes shut even firmer, but he couldn't prevent the first tears from leaking out, nor could his clenched fists prevent his body from shuddering. He began to sob in silence, as his years with the Dursleys had taught him. 

Surprisingly, and unlike all the times he had cried alone in the darkness of his cupboard at 4 Privet Drive, he felt a heavy arm settle around his shoulders. Harry tensed. A hand closed around his upper arm and pulled. Harry, still with his eyes squeezed firmly shut, leaned towards the other side, but the shudders running through his body made it hard to stay in control of his movements. His pathetic attempt to scoot away failed. 

Finally he gave in and allowed himself to be drawn closer by the arm, until he felt another body make contact with his side and his face met a bony shoulder. 

Maybe it was the warmth of the arm around his shoulders, or more probable the warmth from the Whisky within, that made Harry's last resolves crumble. He cried, as he had not done since he was six years old.   
  
  


When finally his body stopped to shake Harry didn't know how long he had been sobbing in agony. He noted that Snape's arm was still around his shoulders. He wasn't rubbing his back or making any other comforting gestures. His arm was simply there. Harry took a deep shaky breath and slowly opened his eyes. 

The fire was burning low, and the campground around them had gone rather quiet. He didn't dare to move, because he feared if he gave Snape an indication that he had calmed down, he would take his arm away and possibly ask questions. Unmoving Harry sat and stared into the fire for a long time, trying to sort through his thoughts. Snape didn't move much either. From time to time Harry could feel how he shifted a bit to rise the whisky bottle to his lips. If he had noted that Harry had stopped crying he didn't show it.   


When the fire was reduced to embers Snape suddenly squeezed Harry's shoulder and then dropped his arm. Harry turned his head a bit to meet Snape's eyes. 

"Go to bed, Potter." Snape whispered. The smell of whisky on his breath was overwhelming. 

Harry watched how Snape got to his feet, his movements a bit less graceful than usually. He somehow felt that he should say something to Snape, apologize for crying or explain himself maybe, but he didn't know what to say.   


Snape took a few swaying steps away from Harry before he turned to him once more. "You can have the tent. I'll sleep in the car." 

Harry stared at Snape's retreating back and bit his lip. Snape had slurred the words almost exactly the same way as Uncle Vernon always did when he was drunk.   
  
  


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_**A/N:** Again this is not beta-ed. Not that many of you didn't offer me to help (thank you very much !), but real life was becoming so prominent, that I almost forgot about my story. Now that June 21st is around the corner, I had to get this off from my harddrive before OoP comes out and everything becomes AU. Sorry if it is not up to standard. Have a great OoP weekend!_

**_Thanks to all who reviewed!_**   
_**Jess the Great**: When reading the books I was not that fond of Harry either, but since I write from his POV he is really growing on me. Actually I love all characters I write, in this chapter Matt in particular._   


_**Azalais Malfoy**: How nice, you commented on Mulciber. I actually have a fairly good picture in my head about Snape's past, his family and friends. Most of it will never make it into this story. I have made up bios for the whole Slytherin year of 1978 for a short story I'm toying around with for a while. It will probabely never be posted because it is so melancholic, it would drive readers into depression._

_**LadyLaura020**: Sorry, again not updated in a while. You may hit me, if you still want to._

_**besnaped**: Sometimes I think I maybe put too much in one chapter, but once I am in a mood to write I can't stop cramming more little lines and deatils into it._

_**mimine**: Thank you for making me the greatest compliment a fanfiction writer can dream of. I don't know what to say._

_**Moonchild**: The situation for Snape and Harry won't improve soon. Glad you liked my version of Snape's 'return to the light'. I have a lot of fun weaving my very own theories about the Poterverse into the story._

_**Thank you,** **Zardiphillian Berryllix (**hey, you've updated your fic, too!**), Nemo, Just ME, faerychild713, MyInnerHermione, ranger, Sela, Principessa, Kari, fanfiction fanatic, Jaws, faerychild713, fabnikki, Sakura Le, Charma1219**_   
  
  



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